Forlorn
by ToneOfEchoes
Summary: Shawn has accepted his life knowing his internal demons lurked in the shadows of his own negativity. When abandoned by his securities and his parents, he is left to fend for himself or turn to those he knows are always willing to offer help. But he can't leave his faith in the hands of others without the fear of them being hurt again encasing his mind.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. All rights reserved. Okay, so this story has been in my head for some time now and I decided to give it a shot :) I've always loved the relationship Shawn maintained with Jon (even though it practically became nonexistent after a while). Anyway, this takes place after Cult Fiction, a few months or so where Jon had enough time to recover. Let me know if you want more! Reviews are greatly appreciated! R&R~**

* * *

Shawn swung opened his locker, the hinges screeching inaudibly after the quick motion. The door piercingly clashed against the wall, the echo blending in with the rest of the swarming hallway noise before homeroom rounded the students into controlledclassrooms. The ambiance was furthering his drawn headache as he marginally shiftedhis gaze away from the others. The torment of tiredness showcased in his features as his stare fell to the floor. His mind was lost elsewhere, increasing thoughts that held no attention to school or anything pinned as relevant. His frustration began eating away at his strung together composure as longwinded days proceeded**.**

A crawling sensation of question rebounded in his skull without fault as he analyzed his situation. The entirety of the involuntary dilemma caused the ruse of his ongoing lies to become worn and persuaded too much effort on his end. A minor crack within his determination and the integrity of those deceptions would unravel. There was a fissure, apparent in his actions, decipherable and clear to those who knew him well. His usual method of ignore andevade was simply running its course with the jagged end in sight. It was taxing to shove his problems out of view when he walked through them daily, their persistence eager to endure despite his yearning to have them vanish without a trace. But he was well aware. Too much time had passed, which left him wondering what would become of him. He could feel it clawing away, shredding every ounce of his willpower, knowing and facing this anxiety again.

He never handled being alone well. Breaking the cycle or reforming the path his life was leading him down would only guide him further from those who accepted him. The walls were always closing in, the gravitational pulltowards his world would suffocate him before too long and he desperately needed a way out. Locked within his head was a calamity too fierce for him to fight. But at this rate, he wasn't about to raise and argue back. The swell of exhaustion weighed heavily on his shoulders, his energy siphoned by the daunting passing days. Some battles were easier to willingly lose than be beaten down by them instead.

Trailing his fingers over his forehead, he forced the concern aside. Dwelling would only weaken his resolve to remain silent and intact. He didn't need any palpable form of assistance or benevolent offered help. The options were silently presented but he refused to accept them. It was a contamination to admit he needed help if he proved a hindrance down the line. Shawn led a life comprised of hardships and losing his way. Reality was harsh in nature but true to experience. He learned to handle the downslide on his own.

Hearing the call of a familiar voice invited his wanted attention to change. He spun around, easily wiping the complexity from his face.

"Hey, Shawn," Cory greeted, slumping his backpack onto the tiled floor in a quick gesture. A quality of excitement was traceable in his tone once reaching his friend's side. "You'll never guess what tomorrow is."

He forced a smile, dropping all previous rampaging thoughts after listening to this on multiple occasions. He could read the other without a drop of effort. "Let me guess, your one hundred and eleventh anniversary with Topanga?"

"It's our second, my Shawn," he corrected, raising his finger in explanation.

"Oh, right, that was the number of times you told me about it," he expressed with a low sigh, grabbing a hardcover. He constantly found security in the fact that Cory and Topanga remained a couple. They had a relationship that appeared indestructible, one that would last a lifetime. When they were apart on few cases, they were still together in his eyes even if he spoke opposing words. And while he hasn't set his eyes on someone so devoted to maintain a relationship with him, he felt a small reassurance run through him whenever he witnessed them unscathed and united through any hardship they faced. It was the only visible proof he had that not everything had to break apart and reach an unsightly end.

Cory slanted his head off to the side, noticing the intertwined gloom in the other's lackluster reply. "Did I do something?"

"What do you mean?" he asked with a confused look, tilting his head down. Cory usually could discern an impending problem despite the effort Shawn placed in concealing the signs or brushing the magnitude to the side.

"You've been acting off for the last few days." He then raised his eyebrow in question, a prone suspicion forming as he paused. "And are those the same clothes you wore yesterday? Actually, you already wore that this week, not that I really pay attention to what you wear but…"

Shawn dropped his gaze, staring at his hand for a moment, biting hesitation grasping his mind as he attempted a liable defense. "Uh, yeah, I just overslept this morning and didn't get the chance to change."

"Uh huh, and you always sleep in your clothes? If this is a sign I'm not seeing, then you should tell me now and spare us the expected drama because we both know what will happen." He was well attuned to Shawn's habits when something was spiraling out of control in his life. He'd become unruly; pull illegal stunts and act disheveled. But of course, he'd always skip any form of clarification no matter how insistent he was to hear the underlying cause. His friend's stubbornness bore into the reliability balancing their bond at times.

"Come on, Core, what's with the third degree? Sometimes I do. No big deal," he replied jadedly, shutting his locker as some irritation slipped into his response. All he needed was to survive this day so he could pound his way through the next until everything returned to normal. However, the interrogations would only fester the longer he avoided the truth.

A lapse of time arose while lost in thought. "Okay, fine. You don't _have_ to tell me anything. Nope. Because you, Shawn Hunter, are always genuinely honest with me." He leaned back against the cold surface of the adjacent locker. "But here's what I'm thinking-"

"Can we not? I'm not really in the mood." His tone was bathed in weariness, feeding into his eluding tendencies. He had a biting sensation this morning that the conversation was bound to rise no matter how evasive he wantedto be. He could submerge himself in falsehoods without struggle but they were feasible at best since his annoyance was grating against his nerves. He had to wonder how much his parents actually cared about him if they could simply ditch their only son without so much as a warning. If his mother frantically desired an escape, then why did she bother to return at all? And his dad, he never knew when to quit the circling search. They'd be husband and wife for a few months, maybe longer before something dug into their marriage and Shawn knew he was the prime source.

Cory offered a trivial nod, folding his hands in front of himself. A frown displayed once assumed comprehension settled. "If something happened, you can tell me, like always."

"Nothing happened," he exhaled, taking a step further away. His fingers gripped the strap of his backpack before tossing it to the floor. "Cut me some slack, alright? I've had a tough week. That's all." It was a grueling understatement, one he couldn't even begin to express. The words existed but he was fearful of getting others involved. His life had a way of hauling them down with him, in spite of their ability to keep him stable. He had little to begin with and each passing mistake, that small amount threatened to disappear.

"Something with your parents again?" he asked as they gradually walked a few steps. He knew Chet and Verna have been arguing lately but that was their typical behavior. As far as he was aware, they were aiming to be a family, trying to fix their past mistakes and mend all wrongs. He knew how Shawn viewed his parents when compared to his own. They were unpredictable, unreliable for all his life, but they were his only foundation of authority and care. If a force hammered away the little stability they discovered, Shawn would ultimately break. But he thought his friend would confide in him if anything transpired.

He descended his eyes for a second, the slim presence of reluctance forming. He peered upwards, banishing the negativity amounting in his voice, dodging eye contact. "No, they're fine. I'm fine. We're one big happy family."

Cory caught the skeptic remark. "Not that I don't believe you, but I'd have an easier time if you actually looked at me when you said that."

The hallway was clearing as they stood focus of the ceasing crowd. He bit his lip, taking a minimal stride in reverse. "Okay, so their occasional fighting is more… frequent," he uttered, negligibly shaking his head. "But I'm not worried about it. They always bicker and then make up soon after. Not important."

"If that's all then okay…" He knew better than to believe the statement, detecting the unmindful way Shawn presented his nervous behavior. "That still doesn't conclude why you seem on edge lately or look like you haven't slept in days."

"I can sleep through gun shots, loud traffic, helicopters, sirens, and yelling. I covered all my bases. In fact, I can't sleep without them," he explained, counting on his fingers. "I hardly hear my parents, only in the morning and that's died down. It's a phase. They'll get over it sooner or later." The fib was naturally placed into the combative statement. In reality, he simply became accustomed to the obnoxious level of commotion within the borders of the trailer park, to the point where it oddly became a comfort. It was home no matter where he went.

"Yeah," he said slowly as the last bell sounded. He felt the dire need of a topic change due to the elevated conviction in Shawn's tone. He had hoped the ongoing feud would come to an end, but compared to his parents, the scene was practically theatrical. Chet and Verna walked the wire to the extreme of abandonment too often. "So, will it be my place for the project then? We left most of the work at your trailer though."

Shawn inwardly cursed. The very prospect of their essay slipped his mind completely. He clasped his hands together. "You know… How about we start over? Or better yet, we do a different topic altogether."

A weak smile appeared on his face. "The project is due at the end of _this_ week," he said, clearing his throat. "We can't simply start over like that. Besides, we were doing pretty well on it for starting three weeks ago and never getting back to it until today."

"It's our history grade," Shawn replied with a more relaxed manner, thankful the topic was swerved away from his family.

"It's a thirty page essay that, might I add, is almost done. _And_ it's Mr. Feeny we're talking about here. As in my neighbor, our sixth grade teacher who follows us around our whole lives, the man who would kill us if we don't look like we spent more than a few hours on this thing. He's already threatening that feeling of complete and utter failure in our faces. We can't let him do that, Shawny, we just can't. And on a completely different note, you know I wanted to finish it today so I can spend the night with Topanga."

"We never finish schoolwork on time. We wait until last minute, rush, hand it in late, get it sent back to start over, and then fail. Let's not break the cycle," he embellished, not taking notice to the empty corridor. "And Topanga won't mind if you use the excuse of homework that was given to us about a month ago." He grabbed his backpack, swinging it over his shoulder. "Anyway, I thought we had a good thing going here."

He knew his girlfriend would ridicule them for their preference of delaying work but it was their routine for years. His average grades were statistically low, but he's been able to score higher in the past. However, he enjoyed the luxury of laziness far too much. "We do but-"

"Hunter, Matthews, that wasn't an invitation. Why aren't you two in class?" Jonathan asked, his voice lingering down the empty hall once he took a step out of his classroom. Henoticed their lateness spread to other periods. But a vague retort would be the simpleminded verdict given when reason was asked.

Cory's eyes wandered the area, observing the unoccupied space. "Sorry, Mr. Turner but-"

"But nothing," Shawn interrupted, clamping his hands on his friend's shoulders. A flash of subdued motion was left visible as he quickly darted his stare from their teacher's watchful eyes. He turned, shoving the other forward. "We were just going."

"Our class is the other way," he whispered, being rushed ahead.

"Well, we're going this way now," he insisted as he steered Cory in the opposite direction.

"You two better not show up late for my class again. I can't keep letting it slide," he shouted.

"No promises."

Jon rolled his eyes at the comeback. He couldn't pinpoint the withdrawn behavior Shawn was displaying around him the last few months, avoiding every slimchance to speak when around one another. It appeared to be one of those moments where he dove into any means of discard due to a problem eating away at him. He'd question the kid but he would continually receive the same ambiguous reply**.**

Shawn had come to the hospital daily before he was discharged, taking time from his own schedule to talk and catch up. Nevertheless, the moment he returned to teaching, his student began sidestepping him like the plague. He held onto an inkling hint of cause but couldn't leave anything to theory.

* * *

The aimless sounds of a speech in the front of the room reached Shawn's ears as he rested his head against the desk. The irresistible urge to close his eyes hung temptingly in his mind. The reemerging form of fatigue elevated its way to him once more. As the day unrelentingly went on, its grip would only tighten. He motioned his head down, shutting his eyes for an attempted amount of seconds before wistfully being coerced into sleep.

"Now can everyone pass the homework up," Jon said, rapidly writing the assignment on the blackboard. "You guys will have to complete some questions based on the reading before the end of the period. Not my favorite thing either but just do your best." He leisurely took hold of the disorganized pile. While thumbing through the papers, he noticed one was missing. He paused and leveled his eyes to the middle row, discovering the source. He strode down the aisle, the class remaining quiet as he did so. "Am I keeping you up?" Mr. Turner asked, dropping a book loudly onto Shawn's desk.

He jolted up for a moment before his surroundings returned. "Apparently not," he muttered, running his hands over his face to cage the tiredness painted onto his countenance. He glimpsed up before prying his gaze away. "Sorry…"

An established silence constricted him, taking the paperback into his fingers again. The unlikelihood of an apology actually escaped, which caused a thin trace of unease to be stored for a later discussion. "If I recall correctly naptime ended in preschool," he continued, tapping the desk. "I asked for the homework to be passed to the front and I didn't see yours."

"Right…" He gave a nod, looking up again. "You see, I would give it to you but I didn't do it," he said sheepishly. "So, might as well save yourself the trouble, Jon and give me that zero and call it a day." He sounded slightly hopeful in his request but knew nothing would come of it. He usually couldn't get away with much, especially after pulling every known and made-up excuse in the book. He even resorted to shouldering the details to Cory but he wasn't exceptionally talented at fabricating whitelies.

"We're going to have a word after class, Shawn," Mr. Turner replied, backing to the front of the room.

He leaned forward. "Can I get a rain check? I'd stay but a discussion doesn't exactly fit into my calendar."

"Does detention fit into that calendar of yours?"

"Well, I'd have to check but for the sake of saving myself the trouble, I'm going to say no."

"Alright then, after class it is," Jon murmured and then faced his students. "Okay, so as I was saying. There are questions located on page three hundred twenty-five of your textbooks. Answer four of the ten and we'll call it a day while I finish grading last chapter's tests." He sat down, lowering his head but not before taking notice of Shawn's winded sigh. He seemed paler than usual and the suggestion of despondency loitered in his movements.

Shawn was flipping through the pages, his attention briefly attached to the words written before him. After not reading the selected material or pushing himself to concentrate on the homework, he felt the whirlwind of pressure stall his motions. His grades were ultimately sinking as the year inched closer to being complete. His center worry became fixated on if he was going to be able to fall asleep for enough hours tonight or what he intended to do over the coming weekend. The quiet voices of the student's broke him from thought as he slightly raised his head.

Topanga twisted around, a smile decorating her face. "Do you want to work on this together?" She peered beyond her boyfriend for a moment. "What's going on with him? Something is definitely wrong..."

"I know… I can't get anything out of him yet. Give me a sec." He turned, placing his fingers against the rim of his chair. "What's up with you?"

"What?" he asked, leaning back.

"I know you usually sleep through class and all but… Something's going on. I know you, Shawn. You don't have to cover anything with me."

He breathed out heavily, impatience breaking into the spoken syllables. "Give it a rest. I said I was fine before and that hasn't changed within the hour." He shifted his head off to the side, ending the unwelcome conversation.

* * *

Cory sat down after making his way through the swarming cafeteria, placing his tray on the table. "Ah, the remedy of lunch after a long morning," he expressed with delight. "Sometimes I simply don't get why we don't have longer breaks between classes. It does wonders." He picked up his hamburger, bringing it near his mouth.

"Are you going to finish that?" Shawn abruptly asked, strumming his fingers in a restless fashion. His stomach was begging for some nutrition as his thirst escalated. He hasn't eaten since last night which was about as long as he could endure without a meal. His justifications were already running dry, but he took no notice to overused methods of avoidance when it came to his growing hunger.

"No, I just thought I'd buy it and waste my money to throw it out," he replied wryly, placing his food down. "Obviously I plan on eating it. Why aren't you getting your lunch today?" He knew breaking his friend's resolve would have to become apparent soon due to the turn these instances were taking. He wouldn't admit it aloud, but Shawn's tendency to withhold the truth when it came to safety caused strenuous consequence on his nerves. Shawn would gamble risks most wouldn't wager their life on, knowing this fact from the many times he tried to run off without a destination, money, or a logical plan.

"I forgot my money at home again. Can I borrow some? I swear I'll pay you back," he persuaded with a weak promise.

He inclined forward, digging his hand into his pocket to reveal his wallet. "You already own me for last week," he reminded, taking out a five dollar bill. "But I guess-"

"Thanks, Core," he said, snatching the money and bolting off.

"I'll add it to your ever-growing tab then."

A few minutes passed before Shawn returned. He started scoffing down his lunch the moment he could. He hadn't realized how unyielding his hunger became until he began eating. He didn't take his lack of energy into account.

"Is there any reason you're inhaling your food?" he questioned, altering his gaze in the other's direction.

"I skipped breakfast," he managed to say after opening his drink and taking a long sip.

He threw his hands in the air in surrender. "Of course you did, three times this week. But fine if that's what happened…" He allowed his thought to break on the subject when a more pressing one came to mind. "Oh and what did Mr. Turner talk to you about after class?"

After swallowing, Shawn smiled. "I don't know. I didn't show up. I darted out when the bell rang," he said with a stroke of pride. Fleeing was usually his specialty when it came to authoritative figures. "There's some perks having my desk next to the door in the back of the classroom. By the time he realized, I was long gone. So, now he can't bother me about the homework or sleeping or whatever else he was going to ramble on about."

"I beg to differ," Jon said from behind, placing his hands on their shoulders after listening in on the discussion. "You see, the neat thing about having lunch with you guys is getting the chance to see my students a second time and overhear their ditching conversations. And I get an opportunity to bore you with a talk while you strain yourself to listen."

"Well, I would consider that eavesdropping. Not sporting of a teacher if you ask me." His tone leveled out once he glanced behind. He stole a peek at the clock across the room, knitting his fingers together in the process.

"Good thing I'm not asking you. We still need to talk. I noticed the way you darted out of there, any particular reason you want to share?"

"None that come to mind. But you can skip the whole thing. I heard it from the other teachers too. My grades are dropping because I'm not handing in homework, failing tests, and generally not paying attention." He stood up, a light scowl forming, self-depreciation rising in his chest. He knew what was befalling him and it wasn't unanticipated. "I guess that covers it. Get chat. See you tomorrow."

"Not so fast," Jon said, clutching the sleeve of Shawn's jacket and tugging him back.

He yanked his arm away. "No. I know what you have to say. I've heard it and I get it." He ran his hand through his hair as he took a step back. "Look, I just can't… Forget it. I don't care." He then headed to the doorway, taking a moment to realign his priorities. "I don't get what you're expecting from me, but you can stop. I can't reach expectations. I'm going to fail anyway so don't bother."

Mr. Turner sent a worried look in his student's direction. "What are you talking about, Hunter?"

"Nothing. Like I said, forget it." He turned and began heading out.

"What about your lunch?" Cory called.

"I lost my appetite."

There was a moment of stillness falling between them. "What's going on with him?" Jonathan asked, passing his hand along his chin. He had to get to the bottom of this issue or he'd once again see someone he cared about lose their way. But he still had no leads on what was causing the disruptive attitude to reform in such subtle signals. He thought for once, his student was done losing faith in who he was but instead he consistently strode down a path that threatened to lead him astray.

"I have no idea but knowing Shawn… It's never good. And I can't get him to tell me anything," Cory voiced lowly. It was only a matter of time before harm spoke for his friend's unkempt deceits to reveal themselves in rebellious action instead of being covered by implausible word of mouth.

"He won't sit still for a second to even talk to me. He's always taking off somewhere."

"Which makes me wonder where he's going now," he said cautiously, aware of his friend's negligent ways. "Because it's apparent that he's not doing okay. I know he'll eventually tell me but… I'm worried."

"He trusts you and when he feels cornered enough, he'll turn to you. I wish he would beforehand, but unfortunately that's not how he operates. When he does come to you, be sure to let me know if it's something you can't handle. We know it very well could be…"

"Yeah… Sure thing, Mr. Turner."

* * *

Shawn managed to catch the afternoon bus in time to head back to the Pink Flamingo Trailer Park after ditching the confines of school. The gained freedom wouldn't dispel the impending concern he walked towards**.** Dragging his feet as he headed down the dirt road, he looked upon the scene still clinging to the hope that maybe his father had returned but as he predicted, the parking space where their mobile home should be remained vacant**.** Amoan was released as he sat on the ground and glanced up at the greying sky.

His neighbors and scattered family members would think nothing more of his predicament since it was a frequent predicament when he was younger. He was always shoved with relatives or left to find a place to stay in the meanwhile. Besides, getting involved in other's affairs could be considered deadly depending on who was included. It was everyone for themselves in this small world he lived in.

"Hey, Little Cory," he said, his spirits rising as the pig hurriedly approached. He pulled his backpack forward. "I forgot to grab some food on my way out. But I managed to get you this." He placed an apple down and took out a bagel for himself and began eating, regretting the wasted food he left behind. "I'm sure you ate enough while I was gone though." He ran his hand over the pig's head. "Well, I guess it's just you and me again." He knew he had to go over to Cory's house later so he didn't attempt to come around here or call.

He took an extended breath. "Another night left alone," he mused softly, the burden pressing against him. Little Cory sat down at Shawn's feet, nuzzling against his owner's leg. "And you of course, my only company. Oh well, no reason to complain. Dad should be back eventually but until then I'll just wait… again." Resentment found its way to him constantly, instilling bitterness and discontent when reminiscing the previous times he has dealt with this. However, he sorely missed the opportunity to counter his father's departure to chase down his unwilling mother. "But let's face it… he might not even come back for me this time..."


	2. Chapter 2

**First of all I'd like to thank you all for the amazing reviews! It means so much :) This chapter took a while for me to finish but I finally got it done. Work was pretty draining the last two weeks. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy! R&R~**

* * *

Visible gaps of auburn brushed against the rimmed ashen patches of pale clouds as they drifted aimlessly alongside the greyscale horizon. The sun was on the verge of setting, allowing night to seep into the air and shroud the world into a colorless sheet of obscurity. The shadows would grow and ultimately immerse all in view to the brink of darkness. The lingering humidity would fade and be replaced by a thin layer of cold, gripping onto the air, enough to send a chill across the area below.

The lone dark eyes of one individual would have kept hisstare at the multicolored sky for an eternity if his senses would allow him to do so, but the scene only alleviated his thoughts for a fixed moment in time. Reality easily grasped his attention when a single nudge was placed beside his leg. Shawn tore his gaze from above and leveled his focus to the uprooted problem facing him again. His fingers dug into the dirt as he lifted himself up, the images of his backdrop spinning in the process. He hadn't noticed the drained time he spent simply letting his mind wander and waver despite his self-placed conclusion.

He didn't ask for this to befall him. He never had in the past either. But the notion of what caused his dilemma to form, reached him once more**.** He overheard his name being spoken negatively within the argument that was virtually drowned out due to habit. It caught his curiosity instantaneously, a set of unease churning his stomach in result. Was it him all along that caused his mother to flee or his father to desperately take any escape route from his own son? He had to consider the remaining inaudible sections, maybethey combated any pessimism attached to his mention but a layer of doubt quieted his judgment.

The elevated voices made his suspicion grow before a swift slam reverberated throughout the trailer and all else fell silent. His feet had led him to the wall outside the living room but the opening of a beer can ceased his growing fears. He knew his questions wouldn't be answered and he didn't feel the need to attempt the effort before retreating to his room.

Perhaps he deserved it, this loneliness that lay rest on the edge of his awareness where the vast sum of doubt amounted. The inquiries were whispered aloud many times to the point where they lost sound to the deaf ears they fell upon. He felt numb to the cold pricking his skin despite the wisp of dampness drifting within the spring air. The period he spent simply waiting outweighed most of the gained time he usually expended being absorbed in the presence of others who uplifted his spirits through modest conversation and absent-minded happiness.

The teen leaned forward, scanning the empty space presented in front of him. He didn't know why his feet remained cemented to this place or what forced him to think this time would be different. After all, those were the beliefs harassing him last year when he felt cornered by all that was lacking in his life. This time nothing would change. The hollow feeling circulating through his body would cling and mold onto his form, never breaking away. If it ever slid from his fingers, trailed away from his being, he would be crushed by emotions he knew he couldn't hold onto in dread of them taking over.

He would not ask for help. It was conclusive, knowing from experience where those he sought out would end up. That concrete fact made him not speak the words or fall prey to the loss enclosing him. Instead he would allow himself to watch it all fade. His eyes were meant for that, to see the crumbling sights and his mouth to never utter in retaliation. He knew it wouldn't matter anyway. It never did.

A breathless sigh escaped him after another motion struck his hand. He peered down. "I know… I wasted time zoning out again," he muttered lowly, pulling a strand of hair from his face. "And more importantly, I was supposed to be at Cory's an hour ago or something." His hand ran over his pet's head before standing up. "Don't get into any trouble when I'm gone. I don't want another problem with animal control if you go too far." A trivial smile tugged at his lips when Little Cory sat down obediently, sagging his head. It faded quickly as he lowered to his knees. "Don't worry… I'm not like them. I'll be back."

He recalled the day he discovered the small piglet gnawing at his uncle's peg leg one afternoon when roaming around the trailer park. The animal was abandoned and alone, traveling with no destination. Jon had let him keep Little Cory after enough convincing. For some reason it made him feel relieved knowing he could offer a makeshift home. He was glad thinking he had something to offer to another who lost their way. Before he was even aware of it, he had found a method to stay grounded within the silence when his reliability in humans faltered.

Shawn shifted his head upwards, arching his back while stealing another view of the sky before taking off towards his friend's house as he should have done hours ago if not for his tradition of accidental stalling.

* * *

The base of a towering tree within the enclosed patio of the Matthew's backyard was rounded to reach his goal. This was the place he came to whenever he desired a break from domestic issues that grewperiodically in the past. The worst part of this entire dispute was his parent's promise, saying they'd be there for him, swearing they would be a proper family. But it was an unfilled vow muttered when things miraculously took a turn for the better.

The whole story wasn't known, leaving assumption to form. Logically taking the problem into account, he knew his father might not be chasing after Verna this time around but it teetered to be revealed as genuine or senseless hope. At least last time there was warning before he was abandoned to live on his own. Chet had originally intended for him to stay alone at a motel until more favorable options made their appearance. He feared his parents carelessly overlooked one significant aspect before making rash decisions. Shawn needed them more than he could express. They constantly let him down even when they endeavored to live happily.

He took a few steps onto the wooden deck before the swinging of a door snagged him in his attempted act of remaining invisible. He tried to pretend the noise hadn't been noticed, but unfortunately it was too late. He closed his eyes before rapidly forcing his façade to reappear.

"Mr. Hunter, I'm surprised to see you here," George said, walking to the white painted fence that separated the property line.

Shawn regrettably spun around, facing the man as he slipped his hands into his pockets. "Why's that?" he asked with subtle interest spilling into the inquiry.

"You missed my class today. Mr. Matthews told me you were feeling sick, which of course, I didn't believe easily. But seeing you now, you do seem a little under the weather." Owing to the duo's usual antics, he rarely held confidence in anything remotely sounding implausible. In which case, this would be an example to draw suspicion on but a simple glance at Shawn's appearance scurried rebuttal away.

"Well, yeah," he agreed, going along with the charade Cory had set in motion for him. "Yep, I had to head home and sleep off this head cold. I probably should have just stayed in bed but you know me."

"Yes, always eager to sleep through class instead. Which I heard is becoming a routine many teachers are complaining to you about."

"Not any more than usual," he negligibly stated, shrugging his shoulders. The dark circles under his eyes and loitering fatigue he felt would argue otherwise but he ignored them with little trouble. His stare roamed over to the house, catching a hint of movement through the open window. "Well, I should probably let you get back to whatever it is you were doing." He shuffled his feet back, inching towards the house as his frown deepened. He couldn't identify this controlled feeling of undetermined despondency rushing over him.

Mr. Feeny leaned forward, nearing the hedge. "One word of advice before you go," he called in a calm tone. "In a month, you have one more year of high school left. Make it count where it matters. And I don't simply mean your education."

He paused, a stir of apprehension forming in his chest. "Why are you telling me that?"

"It's something to keep in mind before losing track of time." He headed back. "I'd hate to see someone with your potential fall behind."

The low click from the door shutting reached his ears. An interval of time lapsed where wariness formed. He didn't have promise when his outlook on situational matters was left deserted. He couldn't distinguish what Mr. Feeny saw in him when the rest of the passing eyes delved deep enough to drag personal view forward. When contentment encircled his life, there was little purpose behind such depreciation but not when a sense of worthlessness washed over him. Chet said it wasn't him who pushed his mother away and he would believe that fact if it held any validity. His father, however, didn't stay true to his assurance to stick around either which dangled the question of who was the real blame if not the one left behind.

Shawn shook his head, banishing the thoughts to the corners of him mind where they belonged. It wasn't the time to try convincing himself that the unspoken information was merely a favorable invention in his head. He's already wasted many sleepless nights under the rarely seen stars trying to rid his consciousness of all misfortune so he could readily accept where he stood. He knew he wasn't always the ideal son, but effort was placed whenopportunity presented itself. A few footsteps were taken before he extended his hand and opened the backdoor, allowed in without a single knock or indication of his arrival.

Cory had several books spread across the kitchen table. His head stayed down, hastily skimming the contents. "You're late," he stated, glancing up.

"Got stuck talking to Feeny." He rested against the counter, his eyes skimming the room before reaching the given disapproving look. "Thanks for the cover. I owe you one. I don't know what I would have come up with this time. I run out of excuses by the end of the year and when it comes to Feeny, he doesn't even budge."

"No problem. It's what I do," he mumbled. He has taken it upon himself to pull some strings in order to aid his friend when such delinquent behavioral arrangements took place. It wasn't positive on his end, considering he would also get caught and most of the time he had to face a form of reprimand. "But an explanation would do just as well. You cut half the day so I'm assuming you had a logical, reasonable purpose behind it."

Shawn rounded his head to the side, displaying an aged annoyance of his when others interfered too closely. "You and Jon were getting on my case so I bailed." He stood and walked over to the fridge, finding his hunger hadn't really ceased. He reached in and started rummaging through.

A second passed before Cory spoke up. It was strange seeing this improvised performance of Shawn barely holding his act together. He knew it only took a few jabs to offset the show. "You only do things like that when something is bothering you and by the way you're acting, the problem seems to be pretty big. So, let's not ignore this again for the sake of my strength. I don't want to keep asking you."

"Then don't," he nearly shouted, slamming the fridge door. "I asked you to let it go. So, do me a favor and _let it go_."

"I _am_ doing you a favor," he argued back when standing. "I don't get why you keep blowing me off. This isn't some stranger I'm talking to here. I've know you forever. I can see the signs and I want to help before something bad happens or you take off to who knows where."

"Well, you're not helping," he snapped bitterly. "And I'm not going to run off anywhere either. We've gone through this before and I can't keep telling you the same thing. There's nothing going on and if there was, you'd be the first to know because you always are." An exaggerated breath was released after the statement. He never could hold himself steady if the actuality of his transparent confliction didn't slip intentionally. It wasn't in him to hold out for long.

"Then why did I get no response when I called your trailer earlier?" he asked, turning the tide of this growing dispute.

Shawn sighed deeply, showcasing his decomposed irritation as he instinctually took a stride in reverse when speaking a sliver of the untraceable truth within the collaboration of lies he had fixed. "My dad quit another job last month. The cable bill wasn't paid. It was shut off. Happy now?" His fingers picked at the food held in his hand, having lost his appetite despite how hungry he rightly was at the moment. His father couldn't maintain any type of career when he always hunted down more compelling inflated occupations where everything worked with no repercussions. However, none of his goals were attainable. They were simply invented stories to make it seem as if he had a plan.

A hint of agitation was heard in his friend's reply. He wouldn't take the unearthed, bad attitude presented to him to heart given that he knew it stemmed from whatever demons Shawn was involuntarily battling. "If your dad needed money, you know he could always borrow from us. It's not like my parents to turn him away."

"Yeah, that's exactly what we want," he said dishearteningly. "It's pity. That's the last thing I need." He moved his head off to the side, gazing at the blank wall. Cory was fortunate to have everything around him, a steady home, a caring family, and all the minor ingredients added in to create exactly what Shawn had always been jealous of never having in his own life. "I get that you're trying to help, really I do, but stop. You know my dad doesn't pay anyone back and that's why he's in enough debt… Either way, we'll manage like we always do." His tone drastically dropped an octave, smoothing out to a controlled level.

"Mr. Turner tried to call too," he mentioned quietly. "And when he didn't get a response he came here, looking for you." At school he could tell Jon was worried per usual when it came down to Shawn's presented manners over a buried cause. They've both endured a lot of strife over the years they've known one another but never appeared harmed by it until the ordeal with the cult. Just the idea of The Centre twisting his morals caused discomfort to grow.

He lifted his hands, placing them against his temples. "And he's still here, isn't he?" It was pointless to ask. He knew the predetermined answer without a crease of disbelief to unhinge his worry. He didn't understand where his evading of strictly speaking to the other came about but he could knowingly identify the source.

"Yeah, out in the living room. He knows you come over here practically every day so he waited," Cory replied, taking his seat once again after feeling the pressure drain for the time being.

Shawn slowly inhaled. The weight of everyone prying grated against his nerves, adding more fuel to his distress. "Fine… I'll see what he wants." He found himself stationary for a while. Slight argument struck his considered effort. He knew involving others would purely greet them with another sad story circling around the life of a reckless teen with unreliability perusing him so close it morphed into his shadow. It's what he wanted to prevent. He was always the one needing to feel the contentment of company around or he'd be lost. But it was a hindrance to never be able to stand on his own without leaning on those people for support. He's survived without his parents for the measured time of two weeks now. It proved more of a challenge than he anticipated but he made it this far.

Cory dropped his scrutinizing regard when silence overtook them. He disliked the drama inadvertently designed by the other. He wanted to stop it before the disease spread but he could do nothing if left with no reason for alarm in spite of the telling actions. "Hey, by the way, where's the essay you were supposed to bring over?" he asked, noticing Shawn was empty handed when arriving. "We need to finish, which is why you came in the first place. Don't tell me you were serious about starting over?"

"We kind of have to," he stated with an apologetic nature. "The essay is gone."

"Gone? Just like that?" His look of confusion reappeared onto his features. "You've got to be kidding."

He dug into his pocket and handed over a torn, folded paper. "Lucky for us, I saved the most important part."

Cory started at it blankly, question surfacing in his head. "This just has our names on it. There's no work, no essay, nothing."

"Yeah, but the first part is done," he indicated with a minor smile. "Less to do later."

"Great, Mr. Feeny will know who to give the failing grades to. That's all we're going to accomplish with this." He tossed the unacceptable piece of essay onto the table with a low groan. "I can't believe you lost our papers. What happened to the rest of it? We had at least ten to fifteen pages, which is extremely good for us who usually don't start until last minute. But it looks like all of that is just gone to waste too."

"You can't blame me for this one," he said in elusive justification. "You're the one who left it with me. I think you should have known it would be lost within a day. Anyway, here's what happened from what I can gather. I left the pile of papers on the side table in the living room after you left. Then my mom came home from work and started yelling at my dad about not wanting to live in a dump since he hasn't cleaned up after himself in days. You know the whole 'I want to be normal, Chet' thing again."

"Yeah, that was a very terrifying day," he shuddered in memory, his fist lightly tapping the table. "I was cornered with nowhere to go and outside was even worse."

"First of the month, what are you going to do? But like I was saying, he muttered something under his breath, grabbed all the paper including our essay and threw it into the trash. Now I know your next question. Why didn't I do something? And the simple answer is this; I was more focused on the fight down the street. Apparently, this guy's wife chased him out onto the interstate and you could imagine watching him try not to be hit by ongoing traffic. It was great." He received a quizzical look. "It's a trailer park. That's our entertainment."

"That highway is death. I know as a veteran who crossed multiple times with my life still intact." That was the time when he personally spoke with Verna to encourage her to rejoin her family in their struggles to mend mistake. He moved his arm, resting against the wood. In an effort to bypass argumentation, Cory stood up, deciding to accept the story. "I'm going to ask Mr. Feeny for an extension then. Maybe if I explain what happened, he'll be generous enough to offer us a little more time."

"Don't count on it," Shawn replied tiredly. That spared knowledge was ultimately fact. He only remembered afterwards that his essay was left in the mess and crumpled with the rest before he could say anything. It wasn't much loss at the time as his focus became fastened on the entertainment outside while ignoring the quarrel raging on in the background.

"I'm taking the chance. Wish me luck." He strode out the door, leaving his friend alone.

Shawn took a meager strideforward, pondering on whether or not he should speak with Jon or leave while the impulse to take off resurrected. There was a boiling frustration running its course through him while left aware of the toll concealing the lies had taken. The further he persuaded intrusive bystanders, the more lax he became when conjuring ways to dodge the accidental yearning to finally extinguish the fabrications he allowed to fester. He decided to swallow his minimal pride and head into the other room.

Jon was pacing before coming to a halt. He ultimately determined to get involved sooner than later. He originally intended on leaving the questioning to Cory but was stirred into action by the concept of distinguishing Shawn's destructive ways. "And here I thought you might have left," he said with some relief evident in his tone.

A toiling amount of willpower needed to be placed during this confrontation in order to conceal the distress underneath the mask he wore. It was on a different level when compared to his wall built against his friend. "Well I debated on it, but you got me cornered this time," he replied, playing it off with little caution as he plopped onto the couch, his eyes leaving traces of weariness behind when meeting the other. He crossed his arms, rerouting his irritation from earlier. "Go ahead. I'm ready for the lecture you wanted to give."

"I'm not here about that," he explained, sending the teen an inquiring look due to the casual behavior he offered. "It's about something else."

Shawn faintly lifted his head off to the side, casting a low level of concern in the action. "Then what?" he asked, leaning frontward.

Jon took a breath. Knowing exactly how his student's mind worked, he would have to take this gradually toinch closer to the discerned precarious issue at hand. He observed the placed distance within Shawn's gestures to convey a lack of drawing awarenessto himself whenever he wanted others further away from him and whatever it was causing him pain. "You and me, we have this trust between us, right?"

The teen brought his stare down instantly, entwining his fingers. A spell of hesitation transpired, bringing about a common uncertainty caged within when it came to those he detested lying to. It was easier with Cory thanks to the type of friendship they harbored and how long it endured despite all the insignificant tears they recovered from over the years. But he knew where this was heading without any verbal indication. "Always," he responded securely.

Jon let a simmering stillness pass, a slight nod accepting the answer. "Then you know you can talk to me about whatever it is that's bothering you. I'm on your side."

"You're imagining things… I'm fine," he persisted, drawing out the syllables, obliging his eyes upwards after the words succeeded in being released. He'd never be able to comprehend the reason everyone kept insisting he couldn't handle the problem given to him when every detail was smothered. It wasn't only the repeated offer, but the unaccepted approach. They were left aware but the origin would continue to elude their worries.

"Then what was that all about during lunch?" he asked, cutting the distance between them with a minor step. It was never an easy feat to remain on the sidelines when seeing pangs of hurt emerge from offhanded and forced normality. "Something's getting to you."

He dragged his stare away, lightly drumming his fingers. "Jon, I get that you care but there's nothing going on. If there was, I'm sure you'd know somehow." The sentence was expressed solemnly as he tired of concealing the level of tenor he needed to express. He was weary of feeling unwanted by people who weren't around but it became an adhesive, sticking to him no matter how detached he wanted to be from the sensation.

Jonathan took a seat, his expression left composed. "You're blocking me out again," he stated attentively. "I know your judgment gets swayed easily. Not strictly by others but your own insecurity and that's not the Shawn Hunter I've come to know over the years. I might not get what you're going through but it's not something you can pretend to be okay with, not when you start to feel down about who you are."

An alarming defense rose rapidly as he shook his head in denial. "You just think you know everything about me, don't you?" he asked, hostility immerging as he pushed himself up and moved away from the couch. "I don't know what you think you see when it comes to who I am but you're wrong. I'm _always_ this screw-up in your eyes who needs guiding, aren't I?" He slid his foot back, his guard taking over. "I don't _need _you to get involved every time. I can handle myself, by myself. You're just like everyone else who sees this weak kid who can't stand on his own two feet but I'm not that person anymore."

"Shawn, I'm not trying to overstep my boundaries," he insisted, standing in the process. As he assumed, it was immediate defense which meant he had to discover a way his presented help wouldn't be tarnished. "You have people around you who see the person you are inside. And none of us think that of you. I only want you to know I'm here for you, to listen. Whatever you feel like you can't say, you can say it to me."

"No, I can't. You wouldn't understand. I mean how could you? You ran away from home all on your own. You chose that life… so how could you possibly know what this feels like? You left everyone behind by choice. That's not how it _ever _is with me," he said, resentment looming without his notice when the hidden torment broke out from the confines of his mind.

"What are you taking about?" Jon asked, elevating his glare. "I don't see how this compares to something I did years ago..." Then he caught onto the unintended hint. "Is something going on at home?"

He instantly shut his mouth, darting his eyes in the opposite direction. "No, it's nothing… I just don't…" He stopped again, running his fingers through his hair, trying to formulate his contradictory thoughts into coherent sentences. "I'm trying not to mess things up this time," he muttered, creating a small enough space amongst them. When he gravitated towards others, the deed was bound to get them hurt. It's what led Jon to the hospital in the first place when he looked to Mr. Mack for answers instead of trying to figure things out on his own.

Jon exhaled, aware of his lack of progress as he tried to mentally place the pieces together. "Okay, I realize that," he leveled with. "But the way you're lashing out and degrading yourself is what has me concerned. You only do those two things when you deny asking for help you know you need. I can't force this out of you but I wish that faith I have in you would pull through."

Shawn bit his lip. He wanted to storm out, to end this confrontation at all costs as it was in his nature to fall prey to reckless alternatives to rid the imprisoning, familiar suffocation. "There's nothing there," he stated after a delay. "I'm not someone who is supposed to end up okay in the end. If I'm meant to hit rock bottom then I shouldn't fight the inevitable. I've known this for a long time. I'm trailer trash and the worst kind too… I actually thought I could be more but I was only fooling myself. And no one can convince me I'm not."

He placed his hands on Shawn's shoulders, grabbing his student's drifting attention. "Now listen to me. You've got more worth than you give yourself credit for and once you stop denying that, you'll actually see it for yourself. If you continue thinking this way, you're only setting yourself up for failure."

"That's what I am. I'm pretty sure we've gone through this before… Why won't you just accept it? I already have…" He tried to pull away but was held firmly in place, forcing a measured chance of eye contact.

"I never will and neither will they," he continued, indicating those who shared the same opinion. "For some reason when you fall, you keep going down. But you have the power to stop yourself from hitting the end of your rope. I can't do anything unless you let me. I'm not asking much, just a little of that trust we have."

His assurance would only be smoldered by such reliance and yet the leading deceit was crafted from his own rejections when taking all he's been through into account. Why he couldn't shed the disapproval he uncovered was beyond his comprehension. It wouldn't offer aid in his parents' view towards him. "I don't know what you want from me," he finally voiced. "This month isn't going that well… But if I thought you could help then I would have asked." The statement would have to suffice at this rate. "You can't do anything. It's just me being me."

Mr. Turner could virtually feel the radiating internal conflict being battled before him. "But this isn't you."

"There's no point," Shawn expressed dejectedly. "You can't help. Not when I can deal with it. It's not like I haven't been down this road before…"

"What you _think_ you can handle and what reality has in store for you are two completely different things," he pressed while not making light of past situations. Any indication of meddling in the teen's eyes would be seen as an overindulging strike to his resolve. He was aware of how his student's mind operated and hoped this was the best course of action. "How about a deal then?"

He paused, linking his enquiring glimpse with the other's gaze. "Like what?"

"If you want to ride out your problem, handle it on your own, then alright. I'll back off if that will help," he suggested against personal belief. "But the second you feel discouraged, you come to me. If you can really control whatever this is… I won't involve myself as long as that's what you want."

All he desired was a shard of knowledge, to know everything was going to be alright or revert to normal standards. This wasn't what he sought after but for the sake of keeping himself together and the ones he cared about out of harm's way, then he'd have no choice but to agree. It would at least buy him some preferred time. "Okay, it's a deal."

A small amount of pressure was placed onto Shawn's shoulders before his hands fell back to his sides. "Promise me you won't let it get out of hand."

The slim presence of reluctance formed. "Yeah, sure… I promise."

There was a visible indication of leeriness in Shawn's withheld word. "Okay… I'll see you at school tomorrow."

He nodded, keeping his mouth shut as to not let anything else tip the balance he thought he had regained. Once the door shut, he breathed out heavily, falling back into the couch. He dragged his hands over his eyes after hearing the kitchen door swing open.

"I got nothing," Cory said in dismay. "We're doomed."

"What else is new?" he shrugged off normally, forgetting the strain he placed into his ended conversation. A swirling disarray of confusion accumulated when he led his stare down. A swarming need to rid himself of the intensifying tension was felt and an idea of how to follow through with it came to mind. It was an urge pressuring him. "I think I'm going to call it a night."

"We haven't even started yet." He stopped, catching the signs of something he didn't particularly like seeing in the other. "No wait, I know that look, Shawn. Don't go off and do something you'll regret. You should stay here where nothing illegal is going to happen and help me finish our essay like we planned. It's still due tomorrow afternoon. So, what do you say? You in?" he attempted, placing his hands together.

"Yeah, not really," he indulged, heading out into the oncoming night to release internal conflict the only way he knew how.


	3. Chapter 3

**And chapter 3 is finally complete! But I must apologize for the length! I had no idea it would turn out this long. Oops XD Regardless of that, I hope you enjoy! R&R~**

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The tremor of boisterous thunder struck the sky, echoing its blows between the searing flashes of lightning and the torrent of rain beyond the brick walls. It melded into the steady uproar of voices resounding within the building. The continuous levels of discussion amongst students were winding its way throughout the hall. Shawn shifted back towards his locker. The sudden storm was barely missed before entering the school, which allowed him to remain dry.

After leaving Cory's house the previous night, he knew it would have been wiser to stick around but the dire need to rebel struck his core without reluctance as it frequently did whenever knots and ties of confliction were mentally fought. He allowed his head to lower, keeping the dejection concealed within his decipherable eyes. There was a numbing awareness escalating, one that lacked any sense of reprieve. No matter what he attempted to accomplish, nothing seemed to aid in reconstructing the fragmented state of mind he was falling into. Usually his illegal deeds would spark some method of achievement, but it feebly held him together.

He had thought there was a required balance in life pertaining to how much strife an individual could manage, but his felt eternal. It was one relentless strike after another and he wasn't sure how much more pressure he could take on before breaking. It wasn't solely the issue pertaining to the abandonment he felt imminent in his past or the rejection he'd face in the future, but the idea of being immobilized, powerless to argue back. Knowing what was waiting and ready to pounce the second he allowed himself to advance, and the recirculating pain he'd feel reborn from mistakes made, that was the manifestation of his fears.

"Shawn, I need a word," Cory hastily proclaimed when rounding the corner before the surroundings came into view. "What did you do?" he asked slowly. His eyes glazed over the scene ahead. The entire hallway was covered in multicolored ranging lines of graffiti, not a single space left without some appearance of defacement. It was clearly his friend's creational and excessive process of releasing the interwoven strain surging threw him. He could tell by the mere essence of knowing the other his whole life and aware that no one else would go this extreme when the liability of the deed was virtually perilous.

He ditched the frown, when regarding the other. "Did I top myself or what?" he asked, a smile presented, mirroring his satisfying success. "You haven't even seen the best part yet. Some of the classrooms were trashed and I cut the power lines outside in the fuse box. Half the school doesn't have electricity. I think I did pretty good for only a few hours here last night. I would've done more but why go to the extreme?"

"You did this…? Are you insane?" he asked, a form of disbelief striking his words. He took notice of the way Shawn slightly rolled his eyes as if the action lacked any relevance to his mental state or drive to conclude this was the only answer to expel stress inducing pressure. "You could get suspended for this or worse." Cory suppressed the level of his voice, weary of being heard by the neighboring crowds. "You know you're definitely going to get caught. That's how it _always_ works."

"I know but I covered my tracks," he replied nonchalantly, brushing aside any concern. "It's easy to do this outside the building but come on, the inside is a challenge. Breaking in was no problem. That was child's play." He faced his locker, opening it in the process of slipping his backpack from his shoulder.

"I was right. You lost your mind." He curved his gaze, observing the rest of the tarnished walls. The onset of unease innately rushed to his mind. There was going to be more piling up, welcoming the arrival of something truly hazardous if he didn't step in now. He knew it started with one mislead and unless he put a stop to it early on, the conflictions would continue to intensify. "What's next, huh?"

Shawn grabbed a few textbooks, transferring his stare off to the side while sparing a faint, skewing glance to the left. "Depends on how I feel," he replied blankly. Despite being mindful of the repercussions, his conscience has long since been ignored for any reprimand that may follow. He could elude punishment if played off in the right manner.

Cory raised his hands, placing them together. "And this made you feel better? That's great. Crime is your new lookout on life, is it? Hey, maybe next time you can invite me and we could go rob a bank or something. I'm sure the rush of theft is right up your alley. Then who knows where that would lead us. Oh right, I forgot, we'd end up in prison," he said bleakly, some harshness resonating in his tone. "Do you even think before doing these things?"

He marginally narrowed his eyes. An irate sense of another dispute was detected as he leaned his head to the side, displaying the lack of caution he pinned to the topic. "I'd never go that far," he stated pointblank. "And yet you're giving me a look like you don't believe me."

"This is going overboard," he whispered. "I'm really wondering where it'll stop. It's one thing after another and I can't always cover for you, especially since you keep dumping all the excuses on me and expect it all to turn out fine."

Shawn's transfixed glare descended to the tile. "You said you'd always have my back."

"Yeah, of course, but-"

"Then there's nothing else to say," he expressed, unbound by the cut off words. He took a step forward, averting the onslaught of protest.

Mr. Feeny walked into the center of the hall, taking out his megaphone. "Settle down everyone. I'm going to say this once and make myself clear. Whoever did this or knows any information about the one who took it upon themselves to redecorate should volunteer their confession immediately." He peered in Cory's vicinity before trailing back towards the other students. "It's the one warning I give or someone will face expulsion. This act of vandalism will be dealt with accordingly." He then walked away, slumped his shoulders as if a heavy burden crashed down on him with every stride.

Shawn let out a holding breath. "That was close. I thought he knew something by the way he looked over here."

Cory spun around. He could tell his neighbor already suspected the offender responsible for this transgression. "This is getting out of hand. And don't start with the lies," he said before Shawn could retaliate. "Now, I've been patient with you. I've been silent for the most part but I won't keep it up. You need to tell me what's going on."

His back rested up against the sullied green lockers. "I don't have to tell you anything," he defended with petty force. He wanted to avoid argumentation at all costs, not having the energy to go round for round again.

"Then I guess I have to talk to Mr. Feeny," he said with a heavy heart.

He pushed away from the metal. "Are you threatening to rat me out?" he asked, disbelief strung within the question.

Cory nodded. "That's up to you."

"I'll get expelled if you say anything. You heard him." He paused, drawing his head back. "You wouldn't do that. Not to me."

A minor pace in reverse was taken. "Just like I thought you wouldn't stand here and lie to my face every day when something is definitely going on." He wasn't sure where this would lead but if no amount of discussion would aid in discovering his friend's troubles, then he'd once again have to go to extreme measures. "So, it's me or Feeny."

"There's no proof I actually did anything. You'd be wasting your time," he refuted carefully, a slim urge of defense rising in his chest as the possibility of losing the only source of meager stability he had left was being threatened.

"Don't you think we've done this enough times?" he expressed louder than anticipated. "You left me when we had that essay to finish and instead of going out with Topanga, she stayed over to help me so _we_ didn't fail another assignment. She shouldn't have needed to do that."

"Well, sorry that I'm such an inconvenience to you and your perfect relationship," he said back, annoyance laced within his sentence. Of course everything had to reroute its way back to him getting singled out by a luxury he wasn't familiar with. He had nothing against Topanga or what she and Cory had, but there were times when the two had each other and he was left in the growing transfix of being alone. "Apparently that's all I am," he muttered when moving away.

"Wait," Cory called, rounding ahead. "I'm not getting out of your way until you tell me what happened."

"You don't want to do that."

"Yeah, I do," he battled back. "Now what are you going to do about it?" he asked with no hesitation.

"Move before I make you," he threatened evenly.

"Go ahead, take your frustration out on me but then you better have the decency to tell me what has you so shaken up that you're taking it out on anyone in walking distance. Yesterday you specifically told me that I'm the first to know these things. Let me have that much."

"Back off," Shawn uselessly countered. "I don't need this from you too, okay? I got enough of the 'I care' speech last night from Jon." Aggravation was palpable in his riled features as he held back from shoving past, possibly turning this into a physical fight. It's not what he wanted or needed.

"You don't think this is a sign?" he asked, spreading his arm back. "It's always the same with you. Don't you remember the time you almost messed up Turner's bike because of Harley's encouragement? You convinced yourself you were so worthless that you had no other option but to listen to some thug who only wanted you to get into trouble. And that merely happened because you let one person's opinion about the way you live define you."

"I don't need to hear this," he replied crossly.

"I think you do," Cory made sure to stand decisively in place to barricade any escape route. "What about the time you worked for the mob to earn an easy pay? Or when you stole Mr. Turner's motorcycle and ended up in jail? Oh and we can't rule out the cult you joined a few months ago and let's not forget the infamous cherry bomb incident. Who do you think helped you all of those times? I did everything I could because, believe it or not, I happen to care."

The trip down memory lane was not a welcomed one. He scoffed, steering his head to the right. "Okay, okay, you made your point. I'm a screw-up. Thanks for pointing that out as if I didn't know already." He twisted around, ready to end the confrontation before it morphed into one he couldn't control.

"You're not leaving again." Cory got ahead, standing in Shawn's way again. "I can see it's getting to you, so come on. It's me, your best friend."

"Yeah, the one person who is _supposed_ to be on my side no matter what and all you're doing is going against me."

"That's not what this is," he stated firmly. "And you've always known that."

His resentment dimmed as he fell silent, well aware of the point Cory was making from previous experiences. He clutched the strap resting over his shoulder. Not wanting to reveal the reality of his predicament when knowing it wasn't going to last much longer, would only break the solidarity gathered. Heknew there were easier ways to discover the truths he's been hiding and it might be better for him to say the words instead of locking them behind a wall of insecurity. "Fine," he exhaled, regaining his composure. "I'll tell you but you have to swear you won't breathe a word of this to anyone."

"Okay, I swear," he assured, holding up his hand. "Whatever it is stays between us…"

"Not here though. The bell is going to ring and I can't go to homeroom right now." He couldn't expend the time needed within the limitations of the mere minutes among classes. Also being aware of the time, he knew he had to be elsewhere. "We have to go somewhere no one will think to look."

"How about the library?" he suggested.

"I kind of flooded the library…"

"How do you even…? Never mind. I don't want to know. Alright, Feeny doesn't have a class this period which means he'll be in his office. We can head there."

* * *

The door was closed when stepping into the familiar history room. The sound of rain bashed loudly against the windowpane as the area was flooded with light after the switch was flipped. Shawn still felt the crushing undertake of agitation vexing his minimal bearing of structured solitude. The voices in his head would foolishly argue against involving anyone, but it frequently helped him find solace at the outcome if any in positive disguise could be uncovered.

"So, I'm going to just say this," Shawn began lowly, sitting on his desk. He felt it in the back of his throat, the unwillingness he had when repeating the offense that occurred simply a year ago. It nearly stung when leaving his mouth. "It's stupid that I didn't even see it coming…" The initiated sentence was quiet, spoken more to himself. "My parents left. They're gone, took the trailer and everything."

Cory raised his eyebrow, slight skepticism sheltered in his expression. "What? But I thought everything was working out."

The cusp of his concern was being mowed down as he thrust the story into the open. "I don't know the whole thing, just some I overheard. Do you remember when I stayed at your place for dinner and then ended up spending the night? Well, I only did that because my parents were arguing all day and my mom stormed out. My dad started drinking… When it was morning, he apparently passed out in the living room and I left for school without thinking too much of it. This kind of thing is common. I didn't know how he'd be if I went back so I didn't. I stayed at your house but when I went home… there was no sign of them. I asked a few of my neighbors and they didn't know either. Apparently my mom never came back and my dad drove off with the trailer."

"Wait a second," he voiced, processing the facts presented in the reveal. "You stayed at my house two weeks ago. You've been on your own the entire time? Why didn't you say something?" He knew Shawn was never one to confront the battles in his life but this was unlike the previous in many ways. His friend had a tendency to seek him out whenever these neglecting ways developed in the actions his parents took.

"I've been waiting for them to come back," he confessed while focusing his concentration at the wall. "I've been sleeping around the trailer park, wherever I can get comfortable and stealing food from the cafeteria when I could. But it's fine. They'll come back eventually. And besides, saying something wasn't going to make this any easier or make them come back sooner. On top of that, I'd have to deal with everyone else interfering." He stood up, rejecting the idea quickly. The temptation to purely take offered help was surely going to make him reliant on the advantageous aspects in life. He had to remain rooted to what made him who he was and it wasn't this abandoned child he turned into.

"Last time your dad didn't come back for an entire year, Shawn. You can't keep living on the streets like that." He pushed off from his seat, realizing the lack of commitment his friend shared when it came to his own safety. "Why didn't you come over to my house? You know you're always welcome there. My parents love having you over."

An instant rush of memory coiled into his response. "No, your parents can only tolerate me for three weeks. We tried that before and it didn't work. You have a curfew and all those rules. I don't do any of that. It's suffocating. I need to get out but your parents wouldn't let me do anything on my own." He felt like a caged animal, imprisoned behind the bars of unwarranted supervision.

"It's called being responsible," Cory refuted, standing out of vision when choosing his words wisely.

"I don't have that. My dad's idea of curfew is home before he wakes up," he expressed tiredly, turning to his friend. "They try, I can see that but when it comes down to good parenting, they don't know what they're doing…" He paused for a minute, looking to the ground. "I don't need them to be perfect. That's not what I'm asking... I just want them around." He stole a glance at the door, wanting to leave before this continued but knew he couldn't when ensnared in explanation.

Cory lowered his head, unsure of how to further aid the discussion. Chet and Verna overly focused on what was tearing them apart that they ignored their son who was caught in the damage of their choices. "You said they were arguing but never anything about how bad it was..."

"That's how it always starts, isn't it? A few arguments come up here and there then before you know it someone's gone. In my case they both decided to leave." He took a few steps, walking off his urge to move as his hand ran over his eyes. "I haven't heard from them yet. It's not like they can call but that's assuming they'd want to talk to me."

"You're dad called you a lot last year. Maybe he will soon," he tried, aiming to be positive.

"Oh yeah," he said with despondency, some disdain sealed between the syllables. "My dad called every twenty-three days, like clockwork. He had to go out of his way and if it wasn't for you and Topanga… He wouldn't have come back. I know he wouldn't have… It's the same with my mom. _You_ convinced her. It wasn't anything I did or tried to do." He cut himself off, shaking his head, shutting off the mental valve that released his stored deprecation. "But I get it and it doesn't bother me. If they want me to be on my own again, then I will be."

Cory was quiet for a moment longer, letting the silence devour the tug of apprehension from his voice when speaking up. "They do care about you."

"Then they have a terrible way of showing it, don't they?" He inhaled swiftly, securing his anxiety to his thoughts as he headed over to the window. The water pelted against the glass, streaming down before mixing with the rest. His concentration faltered briefly. "I don't care though. I don't need them," he continued, clenching his fists. "I've survived alone before." There was a long drilled absence of dialogue again as his mind fluttered to an infinite space of self-criticism. "There's one thing I don't understand about it all… What are they running from? Am I that much of a problem?" He inclined, hunching his shoulders, forcing himself to end the unanswered inquiries. "I've got to stop complaining about every little thing and just accept the fact that it's going to keep coming. You'd think after everything, I'd have done that by now. There's nothing else I can do anyway."

"Well, what about Mr. Turner?" he suggested offhandedly. "He would-"

"No," Shawn interrupted, spinning around and raising his hand in instant protest. "I'm not going to Jon again either. The same thing happened, except it lasted a year. He finally got rid of me and doesn't need some homeless sixteen year old hanging around again. And besides, it's my fault he got hurt. He almost died in that accident because of my carelessness. I'm sure you'd like me to believe it had nothing to do with me, but it does. He's better off and so am I."

"Just because you decide to rely on him, that doesn't mean he'll get hurt again. You trust me all the time." He knew the incident caused some guilt to manifest but wasn't aware of how deep it ran. He noticed the distance placed when Jonathan was around but it came off in an innocent way, as if it wasn't done on purpose.

"You're basically immune or at least used to it. You've got to be by now," Shawn added when considering the expressed opinion.

Cory gave a negligible nod. "You occasionally surprise me."

Thunder rumbled in the background, isolating the issue at hand and presenting another. The lights flickered temporarily. "I'll find somewhere dry to sleep at night, so don't worry about the weather problem. I've got that covered too."

"How about you stay over my house until the storm passes? Just a few days?" he endeavored almost pleadingly. "It's supposed to get worse."

He shook his head in retaliation, ready to combat the suggestion. "I know you. You'll try to make me stay, then your parents will get suspicious and I don't need that. If I get used to depending on you, it'll make things worse down the line."

"You can't be serious about this. It's dangerous for you to be out there, taking your chances when you probably haven't slept well in days or eaten an actual meal in weeks."

"I am serious," he stated sternly. "And you promised you wouldn't say anything. No one can know."

"But-"

"No one," he repeated with more force. "I'll be fine." He grabbed his backpack from the floor. "I'm used to being on my own."

"Do you remember what you said to me when Topanga almost moved to Pittsburg?" he asked when intercepting Shawn's attempt to leave. "You said I didn't deserve that kind of pain, and you tried to help me through it. Now you're trying to deal with a pain you don't deserve. The least you can do is let me help."

"You don't seem to get the pattern here, Core. It's not about last time or all the times before that. It has to do with right now. I've never been by myself as long as I had last year or seen my parents get back together in just the right way to let me think everything was going to be alright for a change. So, it's not the pain I'm worried about. I've felt this before…" He headed to the door, opening it slightly.

Cory tried to stop him but became motionless in the process. "Then what is it?"

"It's about what happens after I finally do hear from them. I can't believe in my parents anymore, but then where does that leave me…?" He pressed his lips together when no immediate reply was given and then strode out. There were times he felt the ghostly presence he made when struggling to fix what was scattered into misshapen pieces. All he'd accomplish was gaining headway of realizing how fake he was becoming when brushing others aside, how lies formed in order to satisfy the moment. He was a havoc force, not secure by desired sanction. In that place, where acceptance demolished him, he was imitating his father and that realization alarmed his senses beyond comprehension.

* * *

She had been observing the crowding hallways, the students filling and passing by with only their destination in mind and their friends latched by their sides. In spite of the amount of vandalism surrounding them, brought through by the actions of someone close to her, no one appeared to think of it more than a reckless prank. Mr. Feeny made an announcement saying the uninvolved needed to take part in the cleaning process until the one responsible stood up and faced punishment of further repercussions.

Topanga shut her locker inaudibly, having her eyes locked on her boyfriend as she read his troubled guise. "What's going on?" she finally asked, holding her books against her chest. "You have that look, like you're hiding something."

"Me hiding something? Oh, Topanga you slay me," he said, overindulging his carefree performance. It wouldn't hold since he was well aware of his girlfriend's exceptional ability to read him, but he took a swing at it regardless, wanting to keep his vow intact as long as possible. Cory presented a smile when peering in her direction. "If I was hiding something you know I'd be babbling like an idiot. I'd keep talking and talking. Just going in circles and basically letting you know without-"

"Okay, that's enough," Shawn said, covering Cory's mouth from behind. "You really need to work on that." He dropped his hand, giving the female a small wave of greeting before taking siege of his friend's arm. "I need the time," he stated when turning the other's wrist, knowing he'd still be wearing the Christmas gift given to him this year. "Almost nine already, that gives me just enough hours. I'll see you guys at the end of the day."

"Oh no, you're not skipping school again," he warned, grabbing the other's sleeve before he could escape. "It's pouring out there, so let's go to class like we should and last the entire day." It appeared that Shawn was taking any accessible opportunity to depart and avoid his responsibilities, which made him wonder if he should keep his guarantee of holding back from shedding light on the situation to someone able to assist.

"What about English?" Topanga asked. She knew Cory had covered for Shawn the previous day when it came to history class, but wasn't sure of the encircling purpose behind the lies. It was probably another stunt being pulled, but assuming that much didn't seem right. It felt different, dissimilar to simple rebellion. It was something else entirely.

"We're still doing poetry. It's not really my thing," he lied. He often enjoyed writing his own and had for a long time but no one was spared that information. It was personal and a way to dispel his emotions since spoken words never followed through, crumbling away before reaching his tongue and escaping through the sound of his voice. It was easier to let the pencil glide over paper and flow, unseen by eyes worthy of only judgment. "There's something I have to take care of that can't wait. That's all. But I'll be back at the end of the day." He took off, free to go.

"That was strange," Topanga mused when watching her friend take his given getaway before vanishing in the crowd.

A long winded sigh was given at the outcome. "I have to do this. But I promised I wouldn't. He knows I can't keep this to myself but then he trusted me anyway. I don't know what to do here," he complained, lighting hitting his head against the locker.

The small bang reached her ears, causing her to shift her eyes in his location. "Are you alright?" Topanga asked genially, wary of his habit of taking on his best friend's burdens to a point where the idea of keeping them sealed away troubled him more than the one going through the genuine labor, dealing with the entire intangible dispute.

"Me? Yeah, of course I'm fine. Like I said, everything is perfect." His voice held no validity, no reason to have the alleged words believed.

She slowly brought her chin down. "Okay, you can drop the act. It's obviously about Shawn. Now that he's gone, you can tell me, unless you want to keep denying it to cover for him."

"No, no, everything is fine, especially with him," he pressed ineffectively. A loud roll of thunder sounded in the background, the minimal amount of ground shaking followed shortly after. "Oh who am I kidding? You know me too well. Shawn is clearly getting himself into something. I'll have to tell you later because right now I have to talk to Mr. Turner. I know if he's willing to accept someone's help it would eventually be his…"

"But is he okay?" she asked, taking a stride after him.

Cory glanced over his shoulder. "He will be… I just have to go and make sure." He continued, going across the hallway and entering the empty room.

"Homeroom was a while ago, but at least you put in the effort to show up," Jon mention, cleaning the blackboard to prepare for his next incoming class. He noted the disappearing act his two students pulled after passing them earlier in the morning. It had him worried, but Shawn had a talent for keeping his guard up and taking notice of any leaked concern worthy tendencies. He placed the eraser down and supported his hand on the front desk. "Any reason?"

"Yeah there was," he clarified calmly. "I know we shouldn't have cut, sorry about that... But that's not why I'm here. I need to talk to you about Shawn."

"Did something happen?" he asked, devoting his full attention after crossing his arms. He had a feeling after leaving his student's house last night that it wasn't the ideal choice. Shawn rarely confronted and spoke his true intentions whenever they were grating his rationality to nonexistent slips of revolt. Jon knew him too well to be fooled by the performance, but wanted to keep their trust open with one another, hoping it wouldn't disrupt his faith in it.

"More like I know what's been bothering him lately…" He dropped his stare, fidgeting with his fingers. He always felt the sting of betrayal whenever divulging promises he swore to keep. "I think you should go find him and ask what's going on yourself. I said I'd tell you if it was something I couldn't handle. I can't convince him to get help any more than usual. Shawn's taking on too much, whether he sees that or not and doing that always leads him places he shouldn't be. I can sometimes drag him back from the wrong side but it's getting harder as the years go on," he admitted. "I'm afraid that one day, I won't reach him… I know I'm not the only one able to stop him, but when it comes to this particular issue, he thinks I'm too privileged to understand." It didn't need to be spoken. Shawn idealized him within the perfect domestic setting, unable to grasp how to deal without them.

"Then this has to do with his family," he assumed. "He slipped a little when talking to me. I thought he might get back to it, but he didn't. I don't understand why he wouldn't tell me last night."

Cory could remember the day Shawn wouldn't face Jon when he was lying in the infirmary, how he had to coerce him to stay in the room. He could read the sheer guilt and realized the state of fear appearing on his face after seeing someone he cared for near death. "He's not so sure about involving you anymore. After the whole accident and hospital situation, he's been kind of avoiding it."

"We've talked about that when I was recovering," he replied with a disheveled look. "He knows I don't blame him."

"Shawn's someone who needs to be told more than once and that's not even enough half the time. I thought he was doing alright and he might have been fine if things didn't go wrong again so soon…"

"I'll go talk to him." Jon stood up, shaking his head in the process. Shawn had begged for him not to blow him off when first sitting beside him, ironically the same thing Jon asked before the mishap occurred. The whole cult scenario could have gone too far but the tables turned in an unexpected way. "Where is he?"

"I don't know. He kind of left school, saying he had to do something that apparently couldn't wait." It was probably irresponsible for him to allow the other to leave once more. He wondered if a day would come when he didn't constantly strain himself from worry. Still, nothing said or done would ever cause him to desert his friend. "He said he'd be back by the end of the day though."

"He's really going out in this weather? What could he possibly be doing?"

"I don't know. I had to press him to talk, so I imagine he won't be as easy cracking when it comes to telling you..."

"Unfortunately I'll have to wait until he comes back to school then." He couldn't leave while working and it'd be senseless to roam around searching. He noticed the unsettling look displayed. "Don't worry about it; I'll do everything I can to fix whatever this is. Shawn's lucky to have a friend like you even if he doesn't see it."

Cory reached the door. "Well, he has more than he thinks."

* * *

The musky smell of rain lingered as drops struck the asphalt. The storm had slowed considerably. However, it wasn't meant to last. Shawn had to walk his way back to the Pink Flamingo Trailer Park, leaving too early to make the bus. He didn't mind the trek home since it allowed time to tick by. His return was surmised due to a rumor seeping around; one he knew held liability from those that spoke it. It led him to consider he had no choice when it came to leaving school for the day. He'd have to face whatever came of it later on.

As he hiked over the wet dirt and maneuvered through the memorized layout of homes stationed around the area, he spotted the person he was looking for immediately. "I heard you were back," he called out, casting aside any caution in his approach. "But I think the better question is why."

A measly shrug was applied when the one indicated peered down at his half-brother, his typical scrutinizing glare dauntingly cast. "It's just a visit, nothing much. But hey, you don't look happy to see me. Should I be offended?" A grin appeared on his face. "I wasn't expecting the reunion, not so soon anyway."

He ignored the comment, the trifling amount of superiority also disregarded. "You left with Uncle Mike along with the majority of our family. So, excuse me if I don't see a reason for you to suddenly take an interest in dropping by. Actually, I don't believe that's why you're here." He had thought the elder was gone for good. When most left this place, they weren't eager to return. He had a suspicion linking to some kind of con or theft that redirected him back but thought better of asking.

"Well, word on the street is, you're living on it. I just had to come see for myself," he replied, strolling around his sibling. "The notorious Shawn Hunter being screwed over once again by good old dad, it's too much. I see you're not relying on your rich friends this time, living it up in the suburbs. That's different, nice change to be where you belong, isn't it? But cutting school, that's bold for you. You're usually the one to behave."

"Screw you," he said with drained malice. He swiped some hair that fell in front of his eyes. He didn't want to seem intimidated during a simple discussion. The other was violent at times and had hurt Cory in the past even though it was nothing major, but he could fight if needed although he intended on avoiding that turnout. "If you came back to bother me, you're wasting your time. I knew you'd be here and I'm going to make sure you leave."

"Come on, little brother, loosen up," Eddie continued, taking no notice of the look he received. "I heard about what you did to John Adams High last night and I must say I'm impressed. News travels fast around here."

Shawn cut eye contact, not proud of the act as a result. He took the matter of his relatives seriously, but not to the degree he used to. He almost ruined his friendship due to protecting those with shared blood. "Are you getting to your point any time soon?"

"You came out here to run into me, not the other way around. Still, I can guess what this pertains to. You don't have to worry about me holding a grudge against you and your little friend. On the contrary, my purpose here is rather innocent, depending on whom you ask and if you don't ask you're fine. But since you came, how about I help you step up your game? Vandalism is tricky for sure but still a little premature for a Hunter," he suggested, slumping his arm around Shawn's shoulders. "If you're looking for a slight release of tension or a rush, I can help."

"No thanks," he said, pulling away. "As long as you stay away from Cory, I don't have any reason to be hanging around you."

A noticeable scowl formed. "They're not your type of people. Your friend nearly got me arrested over that tiny mishap with my stereo scam and you threatened to call the police. Ordinarily I'd bust some heads over that but we're family."

"Not where it counts. Now it's my turn to tell you to get lost," he said, repeating the same words said to him. "You don't live here anymore."

"I'll keep the offer open if you change your mind. Enjoy slumming around where you belong." He headed off towards the highway. "See you later."

"Don't count on it," Shawn replied with a forming frown. He fixed the collar of his leather jacket when the wind blew, causing a chill to come. Returning to school almost seemed pointless but he had nothing better to do. It was more appealing than standing around in the rain. He didn't know Eddie's angle but wouldn't fret over something he wasn't involved in. He began journeying back, the sting of tiredness looming closely.

* * *

**When it came to brining in Eddie, I know he's considered a continuity error and all, but I thought he'd add some antagonistic aspects to Shawn's way of handling his issues down the line. And I am attempted to go slow with Shawn progress of accepting Jon in his life again because we all know how he can be ;) But he still has Cory as always! Love their friendship as much as the father/son relationship Shawn has with Jon~**


	4. Chapter 4

**And chapter four has arrived! Writing this is making me miss Boy Meets World like crazy, especially Jon's relationship with Shawn. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy! R&R~**

* * *

Upon the threshold of his mind, the world's movements, its breaths seemed to gradually slow. He managed to maneuver his way through the ceaseless crowds, his gaze focusing beneath the rim of all eyes darting past, triflingly lingeringtowards him as he opposed the direction of the swarming students. The sound of blaring voices melded into one uproar of disarray too evident and deafening to ignore the minimal trace of the migraine pounding in his skull, the pressure faintly dulling his senses.

Shawn brought his fingers to the edge of his hairline, brushing the excess water from his face. The loud rhythmic drumming of rain could be heard above, verifying the existence of the ongoing storm he was previously trudging through and bound to get stuck in the instant he left. There was no indication or spoken verse indicating he would permit his mind to stay or link Eddie's words of delinquency against Cory's admission of offered shelter. He wouldn't ponder either option if he could help his thoughts from traveling those routes. For the time being, he had to regain core consideration on where he intended on waiting out the dreary climate. After simply presenting the knowledge of a plan to his friend, it boiled down to a mere lie. He had no ideas on how to combat the weather or discover a way to survive the weekend with little strife. His mind was already clouded with numerous discouragingproblemsand no format to find alleviation.

The tarnished surface of his locker was scrutinized with lacking concern, the act still proving to make his stress deteriorate, if only for a few hours. It wasn't his intent to go as far as he had, but once he began the process, it became a necessity. Shawn loweredhishead, grabbing hold of his backpack before rendering himself to the outside world of unknown struggle. He didn't have a concrete clue to what he was going to do about meals. He debated on dropping by Cory's but knew what would undoubtedly unfold. He could always loiter around here and steal from the cafeteria again. It was an option he concluded too often for his liking and ultimately the purpose of his return to school.

The notion was propelled from him once the final bell sounded throughout the vacant hallway. He hadn't noticed the amount of wasted minutes he stood center stage of an emptying hall. The inaudible clatter of his locker being closed was silently heard as the small traces of water dripped down his raised hand. This charade was becoming impractical to him but his defiance against his own self-worth wouldn't tolerate giving in, much less relying on those around. It was an inconvenience to accept but one he rightfully had back when the decision was made.

Jon stood in front of his classroom, managing to catch sight of the one he was searching for before he disappeared from view. "Hey, Shawn, can I talk to you for a minute?" he asked, his voice reeling with lessstrain than he felt coursing through him. Despite having insight on the difficulties his student was battling, he couldn't help the worry washing over him to know if he'd find ability in enticing the entire story into the open.

He turnedaround, not expecting a discussion as he was on his way out. Being accustomed to Cory's weakness in keeping matters like this to himself only allowed borderline suspicion to formulate as he walked his way into the room. "About what?" he inquired curiously. He thought it might evolve around skipping class or something relevant to the trouble, at least he hoped it was that much.

The door was shut quietly as Turner faced the other. "I know you're not going to want to talk," he decided to start with, leisurely permitting the words to be ready to fight combative dialogue. "But let's start with what's going on at home."

Shawn directly cast his stare aside, his head shifting to the left in telling irritation. He should have assumed this would be the topic and left when the chance was available. "I don't know what you mean," he stated casually, his shoulders shrugged in a terse manner, suggesting the known falsehood. It was rusted behavior, knowing Jon saw through it with the upmost ease.

"I think you do." He leaned back against the frame, crossing his arms, a stern expression overtaking his features. "Let's not play this game and have you think you got one over on me again. I know something is going on with your parents."

"Let me guess, Cory told you, didn't he?" he asked with an exaggerated sigh. The speculation would ultimately ring true, concluding he wouldn't have been called in here otherwise. His existing amount of trust was swiftly diminishing, faltering at the most unnecessary times. His eyes traveled the room, seeing no sign of apparent escape. He was trapped within the confines and wasn't fond of the knot the idea created in his chest. "What did he say?"

"He graciously left enough gaps for you to fill." He could already determine how this would play out if not for lack of practice, then by simply referring to the tidbit of information spared to him only hours ago. He could also clearly see the rigidity reforming in his student's question. "Go ahead, I'm all ears."

"No," he said flatly, taking a small step in reverse, the action all too common when he felt cornered by the barriers constructed by attentive care. "It's nothing you need to know. And even if it was, there's no point in getting involved. I said it before. If it was important I'd have told you by now. So, if that's what you wanted to talk about, no thanks." He headed past his teacher, nearly reaching his destination.

"Oh, so you think I don't know that stunt out there was all you?" Jon placed his hand against the door, forcing it to remain shut. "You trashed the school. You're lucky Feeny hasn't called your parents yet because I assure you he knows you did this too." He wasn't positive, the allegation being too widespread to pinpoint one individual amongst the possible students but left mindful to imprinted mistake, this deed fit into place by one person alone.

Shawn dropped his guard, spinningaround. "Then he can go ahead and try. No one is going to answer anyway," he refuted, detachment evident in his expressed ambiguity. A breath was released once realization of his confinement settled with him. He bit back the desire to ridicule the thoughts clashing in his head. He didn't find purpose in discussing the setback at hand, not when he had other possibilities better suited for someone like him. "I don't want to argue back and forth about something you're only assuming."

Jon nodded, compressing his own impatience with Shawn's expected verbal obstacles. It was never a straight-out reply. He had to dig and persuade without immediate detection to receive a small amount of truth, but once the icy shield was deteriorated, he could find answers with little to no coaxing. "Then enlighten me. Why wouldn't your parents answer?"

"Maybe because the cable is out, remember? But then again, you can just go ask Cory," he said with prolonging resentment. "I'm sure he'd be more than happy to tell you everything."

"It's more than that," Jonathan said, leaving space between him and the exit now that the nonsensical warning of departure currently left Shawn's mind. He also knew the action offered less tension to fill the space between them. "I don't want to get the whole story from Cory. I want to hear it from you."

"I can't go through this again, okay?" Shawn indicated stiffly, heading in the opposite direction as if the few meters would lessen the friction surging alongside his mixed feelings and spoken arguments. The repetition would only nullify the quantity of balance he regained after willingly telling the tale the first time.

Jon grabbed the sleeve of the other's jacket, lightly tugging him back. "Do you honestly think turning your back is the answer to everything? All I'm asking is that you talk to me. Don't shut me out."

Shawn dropped his unsteady gaze, recognizing the conflict of concealment was long since over. "Maybe no one will answer because… no one's there," he replied quietly, mild hesitation presented once his arm was released.

"Meaning what exactly?" he asked slowly.

Silence encased him, the words submerged in disquiet as he strolled to the front of the room. His eyes scanned over the erased blackboard, trivial smears of chalk left behind. He exhaled before conveying his thoughts. "You remember the first time I crashed at your place last year?" he asked simply, without attempting eye contact. "I didn't want to stay at that motel my dad left me at so I went to see you and ended up falling asleep there instead. I didn't want to be alone back then, like this unease took me over, but now I don't need that kind of thing…" He looked back towards his teacher, marginally spreading his arms out. "My parents left a few weeks ago and I've been on my own ever since. But before you say anything, I'm obviously fine."

"Your parents left? They just decided to take off and leave you behind to fend for yourself?" He knew Chet and Verna were having marriage disputes but never would have imagined them neglecting their son in such an irresponsible way. They often left town with notice, leaving Shawn to stay at Cory's house or alone, depending on the length of time they'd be gone.

"No, it wasn't like that, not completely." He placed his hands together, sinking back into the redundancy of reiteration. "They were arguing, like they've been for the last month or two and I guess they both needed to cool off or whatever. So, I'm basically waiting for them to come back. I've been hanging around the trailer park. That's all that's going on. Not a big deal." His judgment was offered with little conviction but enough to pass as an accepted one.

Jon shook his head in growing discontent. Now Cory's lack of confidence in the situation was frighteningly apparent. He wasn't remotely sure where to lead this or the best alternatives to suggest. "It's a_ very_ big deal, Shawn. You're living on the streets."

"Yeah, but I'm still going to school and everything." It was expected to keep his life as normal as possible while in the absence of his authoritative figures. It helped as long as he had some familiarity surrounded by his increasing labors. But he was conscious to his academic life slipping. He'd constantly fall asleep in class, skip out on doing homework or ditch class altogether if his mood was exceptionally poor that day. His concentration was derailing when stuck in the learning environment. Other matters took higher priority. "I'm handling it just fine."

"Not the right way," he said, raising his voice an octave. "Can you even comprehend how stupid that is? Anything could happen to you out there. This is by far the riskiest thing you've done. But what has me more concerned is why you didn't say something to me or the Matthews. You have options here, why choose that one?"

He paused, the level of tone thrown in his direction leaving residual impacts, reminding him of all the previous times Jon yelled at him over his reckless behavior, none as dangerous as the one existing. He groaned as the reason molded in his head before leaving his lips. He was fighting the urge to not transition to this topic. "I know I'm a burden to you guys so don't try to console me and say otherwise. I'm passed back and forth all the time, like I don't belong anywhere." He backed up a few inches, his head leaning against the wall. "I went to five different schools before I was twelve. I moved all over the place. From Ohio, to Oklahoma, to Philadelphia and even after I settled here, I stayed at Cory's all the time, then your apartment for a year, my trailer in-between it all and a multitude of other places along the way. I'm tired of it."

"I get it," he stated, chiseling a fraction of his anger to emphasize the vital matter instead of segueing to another topic altogether. "Moving around so much makes you feel uprooted, not knowing where you could be one day to the next. Being sixteen, you shouldn't have to deal with all of that but you were never a burden to any of us. I told you I'd be there for you, whatever you needed."

"Oh, yeah? How easy we forget then," he combated while taking the opportunity to make eye contact. "I was screwing up your life left and right when I lived with you. You had no time to yourself and neither did I. It wasn't working anymore. I was a responsibility you didn't want."

"It was rough adjusting but nothing you did could've made me regret having you stay with me," he pressed calmly.

Shawn absentmindedly rolled his eyes, the gesture subtle, lacking significance. "It apparently didn't mean anything when you wouldn't sign the guardianship papers. You had them for months but I was too much of a commitment. I lived with you long enough for my dad to send them even though I wasn't supposed to be there for so much time to begin with." He held negligible offense over the subject since he still preferred living in the trailer park but it egged at his nerves. No one seemed to permanently want him around and yet continued to argue and ridicule against the concept.

"We talked about that already. You know why and it had nothing to do with you. It was me. But let's not forget you were the one who refused to pick out an apartment when we needed more space." He recalled the multitude of days they spent wandering around and scouting for places. Shawn was against the idea from the start for the same reasons mentioned before. All it amounted to was the other moving out and sleeping in the park then being brought to the police station where they ultimately had a run in with Chet after his unexpected return.

The teen pulled his collar back, the damp clothes sticking to his skin causing irritation. "Yeah, and I still don't need to move back in with you," he needlessly reminded. "I can't do that to you."

"I'm not the one arguing against it," Jon breathed out, running his fingers over his forehead. "I know you still feel the need to avoid me and if that fact has anything to do with that motorcycle accident, I don't know how many times I have to say it wasn't your fault." If Cory was right, the pieces would match up to that incident with probable cause. However, responsibility fell to the one in the driver's seat of the vehicle, not the purpose he was on the road that afternoon.

"If it wasn't for me joining the Centre, you wouldn't have been on your bike and crashed. It _was _my fault. I was so absorbed in whatever Mr. Mack was trying to get me to believe, that I didn't consider anyone else. I'm the blame. If you'd just stop denying it, you'd see it too."

"Why do you believe that?" Jon asked, taking a seat on one of the empty desks, recognizing the fact that Shawn felt more relief on the opposite side of the room.

"I don't want to do this," he wearily expressed, dragging the syllables from sheer exhaustion, running his hands through his wet hair. "I know I'm the reason, whether you want to see that or not." His eyes closed briefly. Purely remembering the day sent an alarming amount of apprehension to swarm over him. It was too intense, the scene, the atmosphere. He was terrified to see someone he cared about hurt, near death because of something he could have prevented. The doctors said Turner would survive regardless of the injuries but that never quelled his worry.

"I'm not asking much. I just want to know where you're at," Jon specified, drawing back the attention of the one he spoke with.

"You wouldn't understand," he frivolously complained. "No one ever can." His stare dropped to the tile. He has tried venting his tangled thoughts but they never reached levels of needed comprehension, always combated with unseen methods. This moment reflected the last in countless ways. The idea of it caused a slew of anxiety to form. He couldn't figure out why everyone distressed over this situation more than he did. His sorrow was all internal, the pulsating mental beatings he subjected himself to and the physical anguish he endured.

He wasn't blind to the exertion Shawn displayed through movement alone. Rest was required beyond much else as he probably hadn't relaxed in weeks due the confusing circumstances, but Jon could do little to aid if his help wasn't admitted. "Give it a shot. I'm pretty sure we've grown accustom to this kind of thing."

A few strides were taken across the room, slightly closing the gap amongst them. The distance was nagging him for undetected reason. "You're not my guardian anymore. There's no reason for you to-"

"Don't even say there's no reason for me to care," he interrupted. "You know me better than that and I know you more than you think. You can trust me. You know that, right?"

"Yeah," he mumbled, sitting on another desk, finding lethargy to reconstruct and spread. The shortage of energy he had begun to weigh him down, enough to make standing inconvenient. "I said that the other day."

Jon momentarily studied the other. He was hardly holding himself together, visible by nervous behavior shown and shouldered guilt uttered directly to him. "Then let me know what's going on in your head right now."

He wanted nothing more than to vanish, to keep the thoughts ramming against his brain to end the motion, for them to suppress their rampage. It was asking too much though. It always amounted to the downgrading self-worth he attained along what he believed was a sullied path his feet endlessly walked down. It was a weak lock on his emotional turmoil. "We've gone through this before and you jumped down my throat over it."

"You were letting someone like Mr. Mack to control you without realizing it. You made a wrong turn there. He wanted you to believe you were another one of those lost souls he saved. That's why I don't want to see you lose your way over your parents' decisions. You aren't defined by them, but by what you choose. And I know, running away gets real old, real fast, especially once you realize you're going nowhere. Besides that, you haven't pushed everyone away yet and that's telling enough. You always get as far as you can but never reach anything permanent."

Shawn deliberatelyexhaled. Several occasions rushed back to him due to the mention. The people he wanted out were evidentially the ones he needed most. It was usually a desperate wager and knowing they came back in spite of the effort, made him feel a security when absorbed in the aftermath. "But I've tried."

"I'm sure none of those times made you feel better," Turner replied, leaning back.

"No, it didn't," he admitted. There was too much pounding against his mind, some subjects that would never be spoken. The topic concerning his older half-brother, Jack, was a prime example. He wanted to dismiss him altogether since none of his letters were responded to regardless of the multitude sent. He could take the hint, realizing a connection wasn't sought after. He still had other half-siblings he'd rather not know either, but some meetings couldn't be helped.

Jon inclined, catching the other's attention once more. "All I'm asking is to know what's going on with you, whether you think I can help or not."

Shawn drew his head back, his fingers feeling restless as they lay on his lap. He steadily inhaled before glancing up, compelling the verse of inner disorder out as it took vocal form. "Imagine going home every day to two people who love you, you _know_ they do, but as they stand there and time passes by… it's like they're slowly fading away. But then you realize, it's not them, it's you. You're the one vanishing as if you only existed in a dream, waking up to find out your world isn't real. We both know dreams aren't perfect because life is far from it but… you find yourself alone one day within that unknown place... And sooner or later you become where you stand. Hollow. Empty. Nothing. That's where I'm at. You wanted to know… Well, now you do. And there's not a single thing you can do to change how I feel in here... That hole in me, the one everyone can see through, it's been growing and I can't stop it any more than you can physically see it… This entire thing tells me that if my parents can do this to me, anyone can, especially if I've hurt them before. I don't need that. I can't keep feeling safe and then have it taken out from under me. I just can't."

Jon fell into continued silence for a moment before responding. "This feeling you have comes from your unwillingness to fix it," he explained evenly. "But it's what you take from others that can relieve this emptiness you think is tying you down. You don't have to be as alone as you feel."

"It doesn't stop. I try to find all these things that might make me feel better, less alone, but then the denial comes rushing back when nothing changes on the inside. I might not seem like I'm falling apart all the time but I'm losing this battle to myself. So, why do I have to keep fighting?" he asked aimlessly. His eyes descended to the floor as he felt the tide of clarity find purpose in his uncertainty.

"You keep fighting to live this life you have to your greatest potential, to know you can still win when every fiber in your being is telling you to quit," he responded with a leveled tendency.

Shawn arched his head back, aligning his eyesight with the ceiling. "I don't want to do that anymore. It's been getting me nowhere. It would be easier if everyone just stopped caring. I hate it." He snapped his eyes shut, mentally cringing at the concept as he stood. "I'm not saying I don't appreciate what I had, but it's pointless to think it still matters."

"Pointless?" he repeated, taking a stand as well. "If you think all those people who care and worry about you are in the past then-"

"No," he cut off, slightly stressed, motioning his hands in protest. The sense of agitation overtook him. The feeling grew with every unnecessary word that slipped and every indication of his unstructured world coming to light. "I don't want to do this again. I told you how I felt. I don't do that often so take it or leave it but I'm _not _going to accept help when I don't need it."

"You think you don't need help?" he asked with clear skepticism forging his disagreement. "Where do you plan on sleeping when this storm rolls over? What are you going to eat so you don't starve? How are you going to be able to focus on keeping yourself together to make damn sure no one knows you're struggling when it's plainly obvious you're under so much pressure you could break any second? Answer me that."

"Why doesn't anyone _ever_ understand that I don't need someone to watch over me like I'm still a kid?" Shawn asked loudly, breaking his constant low tenor used the entire conversation.

"You're only sixteen and in my book, still a kid." Without realizing, he raised his voice another notch and noticed the minimal flinch his student unintentionally displayed. He waited, the gravity of the situation coming down on him as a stern quality reentered his speech. "You come up with all of these crazy ideas; plans to make it seem like you'll be absolutely fine when out on your own but you're not fooling me. I think the lies are for you. Maybe if you say it enough, you'll believe it too. But you can't seem to convince yourself either. No, instead you want to shut out everyone that can see you in pain. With those eyes off of you, then it's only someone who's given up, standing alone. It's you. That's easy, not a problem when you cut people off, then that hole can swallow you alive and before you know it, you become the incarnation of what's hurting you. The nothingness you feel, that's what you become."

"You're talking as if I'm not there already, but I am." He shook his head, pressing his lips together, the amounted denial resurfacing. "Who are you to judge what I'm doing anyway? Let me guess, someone who happens to care, right? How much longer can _you_ keep this up? Sooner or later you'll realize the hopeless case in front of you and have no choice but to walk away. Let's jump to that point already. I don't want to go through the whole disappointment phase once you realize it."

"You don't really want that. It's the hurt, the confusion, and the anger that's guiding you, speaking for you. You're afraid of what might happen if your parents come back or if they don't," he continued, tapping the desk in front of him as his points were being made. "You know it was a year last time and it could be the same or extended. And you're definitely aware of how long it's been. The clock is ticking and you hear every second that passes, don't you?"

"Stop it. Just stop," he said, his nerves flaring at the topic change. "I need to go."

"No, you don't," he said, blocking the door before the other could make it there.

"Why do you have to keep doing this to me?" he asked, his question hinging on his desperate nature. He swallowed the tension swirling in him away, aware at his ability to keep it at bay. The wall wasn't sturdy, merely a flexible surface made out be seem strong as it would crumble with an effortless strike. "I don't want you to get hurt again if I decide to rely on you. Why can't you accept it and leave me alone?"

"The one getting hurt right now is you. The only thing that made me end up in that hospital is exactly this, you walking away from me when I was trying to reach you." Shawn had left the room without being stopped that day, but he couldn't make himself stand between the issues clouding the teen's mind back then. This time, he'd make sure his presence was seen and known. "Isolating yourself and running away to anything that makes you feel whole, even if you know it's not real, is going to get you killed one of these days. I won't stand by and let you do that."

Shawn turned his head, ignoring the sentiment. "Why won't you let me leave?" he asked quietly, gripping to his familiar method instead of allowing the truth to seep in and hold significance. It wouldn't help. It'd just make him vulnerable to the distress and shadowing hurt awaiting him around the corner.

"I'm not done yelling at you yet. I haven't taught you enough, especially when I know you don't want to be empty inside anymore."

He raised his head, recollecting the echo of his plea made within the walls of the hospital. "You heard all that…?"

"Yeah, I did." He put his hand on Shawn's shoulder. "We both know I could have died. I came out of that hospital room. You didn't. I healed. You didn't. The people that truly care, no matter how far away they are or what they're personally dealing with, they will be here for you when you let them. Your parents love you. They'll come back but in the meantime you need to defeat this fear you have. And I need to know you're safe."

"But do they?" he asked, the inquiry meant rhetorical, already aware of the exact answer. He pulled back, the effort measured, somewhat hostile. "All my life I've been trying so hard not to be overlooked, to be accepted. Then I met Cory and saw that someone like me could have a best friend... It changed me. I began thinking I had a chance in this world. But every time that happened, something comes along and tears it away like the universe doesn't want me to be happy. My mom left and my dad followed. I was a wreck inside, but you came along and offered me a place to stay after everyone else rejected me. Cory realized he had Topanga, my parents come back for a while, you end up getting hurt and now I don't know what to do. I'm in the middle of all these people moving, but I'm stuck in place."

"What helped you through it after you moved back to the trailer park?" Jon asked in a casual manner to reduce the built pressure. He didn't want his student to block him off again if he could actually gain some headway.

Shawn looked to the right, inhaling, the memories discretely surfacing. "After my dad came back, it wasn't easy, trying to get along... I didn't want to do anything wrong, something that would make him think it was a mistake coming back… But throughout all the difficulties we had even after my mom came back, I figured we'd make it. And there's one thing that comes to mind that made me believe it… My dad made me a promise. I thought, maybe, just this once, he had meant it. He looked right at me and said, 'For the rest of my life, I'm going to be the best father you could ever have.' He's never said anything like that to me. I wanted to trust him, and I did. Then he goes off and does something like this… I don't understand what I did wrong." It was a vexing effort but he was trying to be careful, watchful to his own behavior when they were around, thinking he could salvage their marriage through being better. However, they proved the theory incorrect. There was nothing he could do to if he was the source.

"It's not you. I know Chet has his falling-outs as a parent, but you could never do anything to make him leave," he stressed pointedly. Having known Shawn's father for some time now, he knew he had some kinks to work through. He tried but when it came down to it, he'd quit and that would be the end of it without seeing the impression it left on his son.

"You don't know that," Shawn commented with little faith. He was drained; all his drive to continue was warped aside from the start. The exhaustion simply chose not to appear until now. "What other reason could he have then? I'm not seeing one."

"I can't answer that any more than you," he regrettably replied. He couldn't give false hope or stir any notions, knowing they could be disastrous down the line if they morphed into lies or desired claims. "All I can say in his place is that you're his son and no matter what, he will always find his way back to you."

"It's been two weeks, Jon… No phone calls, no letters, no attempts. I don't see either of them coming back, no matter how much I want them to." Lightning illuminated the sky, the thunder beyond the walls booming loudly. The rain came down harder, the sound rippling through the roof. Shawn peered up momentarily. "I'm so angry at them for doing this to me but thinking they'd rush back after realizing their mistake, that's what threw me off," he said sardonically. "That's what makes me mad at myself. It's been too long." He couldn't help but think it wasn't an error to them. There's no other plausible explanation or one he could conjure.

"It has and that's inexcusable, but you need to start worrying what you're going to do. Biding your time won't do you any good. You don't have to stay with me, but you have to go somewhere. I don't care where as long as you stay out of this weather and start taking care of yourself." He knew Shawn had little options and even less when he mentally narrowed them down. "When was the last time you actually ate?"

"Uh, some time yesterday, maybe," he guessed after some thought. He hasn't eaten a full, satisfying meal in a while now. He was easily going on fumes, aware that they'd run out soon. "I'll just grab something from the cafeteria later. They'll still have leftovers they didn't throw out yet."

"I got something better. We don't have to head back to my apartment. I can take you to Chubbie's if you want," Jon suggested. The latter would go over better than the previous. He didn't want to tempt another argument if they headed over to his place but hoped they could work something out in the process.

He shifted his eyes, angling his view. "That's it though? No trying to convince me to stay with you or at Cory's house?" He didn't think he could handle more of this extended lecture. All he wanted was to get some sleep but the rain made that appear impossible.

"Getting you something to eat is priority. Be aware that it'll have to come up though." Jon opened the door. "Got it?"

"Yeah, fine," he muttered. Shawn followed behind, having only his concerns subside for the time being. It was a hurdle he couldn't mentally overcome. This devoted effort placed in him when he wasn't certain any longer. He had witnessed this occurrence before, traced it back to the exact location but Jon was right. He was wasting time, waiting to face the inevitable when all along he saw it. He couldn't allow himself this privileged life, filled with people who mattered. He didn't recognize the foundation before, but now it was obvious and he needed a permanent way out before he lost more control.

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**Long conversation that lasted the entire chapter XD I just wanted to thank you all for the amazing reviews! They keep me going! And speaking of which, there will definitely be fluff later on between Jon and Shawn! Just need to work my way there :) If there's something in particular you guys want to happen or anything at all, don't be afraid to let me know (PM or leave in a review) and I'll see if I can incorporate it into what I have planned!**


	5. Chapter 5

**I had writer's block for a whole week! It was not fun. But I got through it! I won't rant about Girl Meets World and how much I loved it! I've been doing that way too much XD Enjoy the chapter! R&R~**

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The resonating echo of low leveled voices within the main room of Chubbie's had struck its cord. The sounds were tuned out as the small crowds retired for the day, awareness placed on the raging weather outside the building. Time gradually docked its minutes, making the past few hours sluggishly pass by. Shawn leaned his head back, resting his eyes for a solitary moment to discover opportune tranquility lost to him the last few weeks. The compression of stress building on his shoulders finally had room to stray from his over-contemplating mind. The release of tension had been sought over, but denied for lack of reason. He and Jon had simply been talking since their arrival. The randomized topics caused a security of ease to return, despite knowing that diverging needed to be placed and redirected to the situation at hand. The idea was quelled for compromising motives in the meanwhile.

Jon inclined, placing his hands casually on the table, settling the outcome of his thoughts. His student had made refusal apparent prior to coming along. He didn't think he required the bother of pure company or suitable assistance, yet he appeared relaxed for the time being. However, there was a noticeable panic in the inconsequential gestures given when they were merely discussing the concealed problem in his classroom. "What are your plans now?" he asked once the silence lost resilient purpose of existing amongst them.

Shawn brought his head down, the stinging sensation storming back to his eyes as the light within the room readjusted. "I'm going back to the trailer park," he mildly responded, reaching for his drink. His fatigue burrowed its way into his muscles and determined to withstand throughout the day. An insignificant soreness would appear when he moved, crafted by the physical toll this was taking. He hasn't spared an instant's rest when aiming to keep himself busy in his parent's prolonged absence, afraid his mind would curiously wonder down destructive paths. He feared his tethered desire to keep his subdued positivity was bound to snap.

"Are you feeling okay?" Turner asked, in spite of knowing the response he'd be delivered. If it was falsified or simplistic truth, he wouldn't be able to spot the difference in the younger's tenor. There was too much combative behavior displayed to pinpoint the beginning of voiced fact. There was no room for question. He had to get through to Shawn one way or another.

The teen sighed carelessly, little effort placed in his uttered reply. "I'm tired, not sleeping well. But I'm sure you knew that." The food wasn't providing the energy he assumed it would. There was still the distance he had to travel on foot and the rain to take into consideration when he was permitted to leave. The motivation to move seemed like a wasted effort all on its own, but had to be disregarded like all else. He sat up, finding his hunger hadn't faded. "Are you going to finish that?"

Jon pushed the basket of fries frontward. "I'd think after all that food you ate, you'd be full," he replied in a light manner. He prematurely knew this wouldn't be inexpensive but the bill was the last concern on the mental list of many, pushed off to the side when priority took control over his instincts. He's taken care of Shawn for an entire year, tried to keep up with his unruly and unpredictable behavioral habits and through it all, without detecting it himself, he found making such a commitment was exactly what he needed to feel grounded.

"When you get stuck with cafeteria food for a week straight, you take what you can get. Speaking of which," he added after swallowing. "I'm sure you have better things to do than sit around here. It's getting close to closing time and I still need to make sure Little Cory isn't getting himself into trouble." His pig was left to roam around on his own freewill but always returned to the place his trailer was once stationed.

"I can't believe you still have him after all this time," he stated with little surprise etched into his voice. Shawn had put up a fuss about the piglet when he was first found. His own caution about the seemingly wild animal was minimal when it came to keeping him as long as he was looked after properly. "He must be getting pretty big now."

"Yeah, after a while my mom said he had to stay outside. She wasn't too thrilled about me having him in the first place but I take care of him on my own." His attention was briskly torn upwards as the lights flickered, momentarily submerging his surroundings into a fleeting darkness. The power continuously threatened to go out, not faring well when up against the pelting rain and turbulent winds raiding the area. A frown befell his features when realizing the harshness he'd be willingly placing himself in.

"You know this storm is supposed to last all week, right?" he asked, tilting his head to the side. It was telling enough. Shawn was nervous about taking this on his own. It was an unstable world to face unaccompanied and without protection from threats. He didn't know what the other was thinking. "The last two weeks you stayed out there, the weather wasn't bad but now you're up against much more."

"I'm pretty sure I said I could handle it," he pressed frivolously, his unsure glance scurrying off to the side. This conviction he spoke had to be built upon the imbalance structured by the two combative forces he challenged. "You don't need to worry about it. Even when my parents were around, I didn't always come home when it got too late. They didn't care as long as I told them where I was."

Jon wasn't aware of that factor but it wasn't his place to doubt his parent's standard authority at this point. "But what about meals? You can't expect to break into school to steal so often without being caught, not that it's okay to do that in the first place. And if you're so determined to keep this from the Matthews, I don't see how that's possible. They'd catch on after a while. I think they'd notice and get suspicious like anyone else who cares about you." He couldn't determine how Shawn's perspective shifted and reconstructed. It all boiled down to the stability his parents left him with. Take the foundation away and he simply lost control and steered off course.

"Well, I don't know... I didn't get that far," he admitted reluctantly. His palms ran over his eyes, the scene in front of him distorting slightly. Maintaining any form of constancy was mutating into a desperate, intolerable conundrum. "I'm basically going day by day. It's not smart, I get it, but I can do this."

There wasn't much persuasion holding to the presented statement. A negligible nod was offered in an effort to show equal understanding of the exhibited determination. "Guess work isn't going to help you out there. When your parents come back, you have all the right to do what they allow but while they're gone, someone has to be responsible for you." He raised his hand before rebuttal was pitched. "This isn't a debatable situation. You obviously feel the strain this is giving you. I don't want you out there fending for yourself anymore, not when you don't have to."

"If _they_ felt that way, I wouldn't be on the streets, now would I?" he asked, shaking his head. This barrier he constructed upon the brink of all the problems, discarded by his mother and father, didn't submit to cracks in the substance of his safeguard. The unsteady barricade was merely as strong as his will, which was deteriorating against his craving to hold it together. But he'd often ponder on the persistence of its presence, never discovering an answer along the way. It was a teetering thought, one he tossed aside effortlessly.

"No, you wouldn't be. But you know my offer is out there. You can stay with me until they come back," Jon naturally suggested, folding his arms. He was at least thankful to the ceasing tension that crossed in their argument before. He'd rather stay composed and allow his words to be heard and take in the comebacks Shawn gave in his linking connection to a form of compliance. "I have no problem with that."

"But I do. Don't get me wrong, I liked living at your apartment," he replied honestly, taking a bite of his hamburger. "But we both know I don't belong there. I want to be with my parents even if they constantly mess up on one of the easiest things. They're not around right now, making that impossible… but it's all I got."

Jon exhaled as the disquiet in his tone resurfaced. "This isn't choosing between them and me. I'm not trying to pull you away from anyone. I'm purely offering a better alternative. Living on the streets is dangerous. You've never been out there with nothing except the clothes on your back. You're slipping at school and it's only a matter of time before you lose that small amount of control you managed to have this long."

"I know it's not safe out there, I live in the center of it all. It's how I grew up." It was hazardous in his trailer park at times and risky to roam around unless one knew what they were doing and where to avoid. "Being poor has its benefits sometimes… you don't expect much after a while," he continued quietly. Having a friend like Cory transformed that into a minor detail, an insignificant part of who he was unless the idea of it was drawn forward and used against him. "We have to face facts about what happened last year. You weren't looking to raise a teenager who was left behind and I wasn't searching for a makeshift home. You can live normal again. Why would you want to give that up?"

Jonathan was silent for an extended moment, processing how the other would form such a conclusion. "You make it seem like I wanted you gone after all that time passed. I still want to be a part of your life, Shawn. You know that," he expressed earnestly. "Being there for you, even if you can't recognize it, isn't going to change no matter where you go or how old you get."

Shawn slowly brought his gaze upwards. "I'm not really used to that coming from anyone besides Cory… People in my life have a way of leaving or pretending I don't exist, especially at home." He took another fry, holding it loosely in his fingers. "When I was younger, I would come home every day and see my dad sitting in the living room watching TV. So, I'd sit there with him, hoping today might be the day he starts a conversation with me… It never happened." He turned his head. "When he came back we spent hours talking, looking at pictures and getting along for a change. We were acting like a family. But like they say, things come to an end eventually."

"I know it's tough having a distancing relationship with your parents. I've been there but trust me, when you get older, you realize parenthood isn't a walk in the park. I give my parents credit for what they put up with even if we don't get along well." He was young when he left for college. Becoming a teacher was an unsightly career in their eyes when he could have continued with the family business, kept to the fortune they offered, and lived a relaxed lifestyle. He wanted more, to break away from a molded life. He couldn't imagine what might have happened to Shawn if he never chased his dream. That single decision didn't only alter his life but also the very person sitting in front of him. "Still, no matter which way you look at it, someone has to be accountable for your safety."

"It's not like I'm in any kind of real danger out there," he passively replied. "Sure, a storm is coming and I don't know what I'm doing about it but when has that ever stopped me?" He's continuously took risks when the odds were stacked against him. Ultimately he never reached his destination whenever he tried to run off, being stopped before the attempt bloomed into fruition.

"That's the problem right there. You're not stopping. You go too far, and you're definitely not thinking this through." He could recognize the problem in Shawn's flawed plans every moment he or Cory stepped in. The gamble wasn't worth much when the teen dissolved his worry in illusion, thinking beyond all else that there had to be something out there that would mend all harm done. "All I'm asking is that you work with me a little bit. Whether you see it or not, I'm trying to help you."

"I don't remember asking for your help, Jon. You offered and I said no. But you keep insisting I need it," Shawn replied, his tone bordering on a weary edge of near inconsistent aggravation. It wasn't the solidified emotion he wanted to convey. Nevertheless, his lethargy made caution, in the manner he spoke, a lost concern. He was exhausted and didn't feel the need to maintain a structured conversation.

The reconstructed expression of annoyance was displayed on the teen's face, readable as it always has been. It was another defense placed ahead. "But when Mr. Mack offered you help, you took that without thinking twice, right?" Turner asked lowly, taking another jab at discovering further reasoning behind the previous guard set in place.

"Don't," Shawn instantly said as he found his attention sink to the table, indicating his discontent. "I don't want to compare them. It was completely different." He detested the thought of any mention. Hearing it now swirled the thin transparent acceptance he layered over the event to merely move beyond it. The chains of memory would persistently hold him back, cementing him to that second. "I know it was a mistake. Do you have to keep bringing it up?"

"If you won't, I have to or you're going to keep ignoring the fact that it happened," he replied. "It wasn't as different as you're making it out to be. You found trust in that cult almost immediately. You told me that you knew it was wrong when you made the choice, but pushed forward anyway. Why won't you share some of that same faith with me? You never questioned it before."

Shawn moved his head in a skeptical manner, wanting to break the connection before it reformed permanently. "I just said I don't want to talk about that. We went over it in your classroom and I said all I needed." He also heard all he could. The Centre was a refuge he discovered along his previous calamity of unkempt assurance. He knew his life was spiraling downward but found he never needed it. He glanced up, reaching for his drink. "Maybe some other time we can talk about this…"

"Okay, we won't right now," Jon agreed. The contingency of this topic escaping the cavernous restrictions of his student's mind was doubtful. His aim was to keep the shield down, which would lead to redirecting in the process of discovering the details later on. "Let me ask you something else then. Do you think you need to prove something to your parents with this stunt?"

He paused, considering how unconvincing his previous methods of seeking his parents' approval had been. They might have been too wrapped up in their own war with one another all along. Their relationship was scarcely able to stand on its own. The time span would ultimately meet its end. The idea of his existence didn't usually form an adhesive between the two contradicting adults. "I'm only doing what I have to."

"No, you're doing whatever you want. I don't see anyone forcing you to starve yourself or making you sleep outside. This is why I'm worried. You think this is alright?" Jon leaned back, marginally raising his shoulders in question.

"What am I supposed to think then? My parents abandon me and I have to be fine, act like nothing happened?" Shawn dropped his wandering stare. He preferred the small talk over this topic by far. The mileage they could travel on this subject was endless, practically an infinite road of no compromise unless one of them admitted defeat.

"That's exactly what you're doing. They're gone but you still stuck around the trailer park, you came to school, and went back like nothing happened for two weeks. I can see you accept what's going on but you're not physically breaking the cycle," Jon explained calmly, regaining his student's drifting attention. Stabilizing Shawn's external boundaries was the prime step in reaching the internal barriers. "Be straight with me here. What's blocking you from taking help?"

Shawn stirred the straw in his glass in a circular motion, the ice settled at the bottom moving slightly within the little liquid left. He didn't wish to divulge too much of his purpose but awareness established within the knowledge of sharing the motives locked behind his actions. He took a breath, closing his eyes briefly. "I don't know how long this is going to be… and if I end up staying with anyone… it becomes real all over again. Sure, I mentally know what they did without being told why... If I have to move back in with any of you, it closes the possibility of them coming back."

"The outcome won't change whether you're out there battling the elements or staying with someone. I get that you miss your parents. You're angry with them and I don't blame you, but you're punishing yourself for something you didn't do. _They_ made the mistake," he urged. Recalling past occurrences of Shawn's dismissive behavior only allowed passage of minor confusion. After every battle fought and won, he would still find the teen stationed in that one mindset. He was influenced by the others around him, relying, defying or choosing any other line he found to cross, depicting his state of mind.

"How do you know I didn't cause this?" he asked almost inaudibly. He didn't want to be blind to the possibility. It mattered little when he'd find his way to the inquiry at each and every given turn. "It wasn't just one of them this time. It was both, leaving me."

"It was a marriage dispute. Don't think too much on it until you get a real answer. You'll only dig yourself in deeper," Jon assured. "Fault doesn't have to fall on you. I've witnessed you have faith in them. You'd wait for the mail to read one of your mom's letters and keep track of the days until your father was going to call. If you truly believe in them coming back, don't give up that easily."

He sighed, slouching in the booth. "They don't add up to much in the end, specifically when it came to my dad. He had no idea about the letters. When I told him, he was surprised, and then almost seemed disappointed in himself for only holding short conversation to see how I was at the time. There was no guarantee, no word of when he'd come back, nothing except the obvious lies."

"Chet can be a little hard to figure out, but his heart has always been in the right place when it came to you. In his eyes anyway, even though the action doesn't condone the act." When first meeting Shawn's father, he could already see the type of relationship forged between them. It was distinctly care for certain but there was a fissure in the alignment of their bond.

"He always said it was better that he wasn't around, but didn't realize that was the problem to begin with." He exhaled, tiredness overcoming him once more. It was getting late. Walking around at night was an irritation he didn't want. Pushing himself up, he sat forward. "Can I get another refill?" he asked, shaking the glass a little.

"Yeah, no problem," he said, taking the cup.

Shawn glanced at the time. He really did appreciate the effort Jon was going through for his sake but he couldn't let it continue. When they first met it was simply student and teacher, learning and educating. It somehow evolved to family without him realizing it. Jon took his father's place for some time now. But a part of him was still devoted to Chet's role despite the shortage of parenting he's done. He was raised by him, grew up with him around and no matter what, he needed him, which was where the road became hazardous. It wasn't a returned feeling.

He shook his head, moving to stand. He looked back, seeing that Jon was still at the counter. He didn't want to leave but there was another matter to attend to before it became too late. He knew his teacher cared indefinitely and despite his actions, he hoped it would endure even if he couldn't stay with him.

* * *

The window was slid open. A chilling breeze tore past the curtains and into the vacant room. It was always left unlocked for his benefit, making his unsystematic appearances easily accessible whenever Shawn ventured to his friend's house. He stepped inside, his damp clothes rapidly bringing an icy stroke against his skin when inside the warm room. "Cory?" he whispered into the dark, hoping beyond logical sense that he'd be here. Walking to the door, he turned on the lights. "Great," he muttered, impatience weighing down his voice. He headed out, stopping temporarily at the top of the stairs.

"But come on, Dad, I'm still looking," Eric complained, coming from the kitchen.

"I don't see how playing basketball with Jason is helping you get into college. You need to start applying and taking this seriously," Alan combated firmly, following behind his eldest son. It's been a few weeks of this discussion, only finding it led them in circles.

He crossed his arms, falling back into the couch. He knew he wasn't college material but still placed the effort in where it was necessary. Then again, he felt stuck after every denial letter he'd open in hopes of gaining the opportunity to attend the school. "I am taking it seriously. I took the SATs and asked Mr. Feeny to help me apply. I haven't heard back from a lot of them."

"This relies on what you do, not George. You want to find a university that's worth your time, effort, and money. The places you're looking at are on a beach, not a campus," Alan continued.

Eric groaned. Small tidbits of confidence surfaced within this discussion. "You know I didn't get the grades to get into places like that."

"High school was half the battle. The rest is your dedication, which you're not showing." He glanced at the top of the stairs, having noticed Shawn's presence a short time ago. "Cory's in the kitchen," he said offhandedly, taking a towel from the laundry basket on the couch and tossing it over. He assumed the window was used again, which he didn't see the point, considering the weather but disregarded it. "There are leftovers in the fridge if you want any."

"Thanks, Mr. Matthews," Shawn answered, going into the other room. It was a predictable routine for anyone in the house to know he was here without any indication. He practically grew up here, always coming over when he was younger. It was a suitable alternative to see structured family members that pounded their way through any complication, no matter the severity. "Cory, can I talk to you?" he asked, after swinging the door open lightly.

His concentration was drawn away from Topanga at the low leveled noise. "Shawn, what are you doing here?" he questioned, his tone upheaving an unsettled characteristic trait of his worry. After talking with Turner, he thought his friend would at least permit himself to the help offered. But he knew the other better than anyone. Cory exhaled, accommodated to facing this type of outcome without much notice. No matter what aid he sought, nothing would matter unless one problem was dealt with. Shawn was bound to unceasingly run here as he's done in the past various times.

"Where did you expect me to be?" His focus lifted towards the opposite side of the room. A part of him didn't know why he felt compelled to come to this house when he was prepared for the common placed outcome. His fingers traced his forehead. The headache he received earlier made its attendance known within infrequent fluctuations of throbbing discomfort.

Cory stood up, placing his fingers together, motioning his hands towards the other. "Well, I was assuming you'd-"

"You told Jon after you promised me you wouldn't," he interrupted loudly. The gall of the matter flared up again after regaining his concentration on the issue. He was beyond done with the intoxicating territory of lies being fed to him as of late. It was an inane effort put in place, to break the upholding methodical procedure they've been through whenever complications of such a degree appeared. His words disregarded it all. "What did you do? Wait an hour? I trusted you and you stabbed me in the back."

"I know you're mad but come on, I had enough reason to tell him. And if you don't believe me, let me ask you something," Cory offered, lowering his hands. Possibility of reaching the other was there and he was well versed in this rhythmic note used against him. "You're soaked, probably tired beyond comprehension, but are you hungry right now?"

Shawn bit his lip, stopping his rampaging refutes from flowing. He placed his palm on the rim of the table, his fingers searching for something sturdy after a vague camouflaged swarm of vertigo struck him. "No, Jon took me to Chubbie's," he finally uttered with ample comprehension sinking into the lowered reply he gave. Of course there was always a susceptible underlying purpose behind Cory's interference, but he still felt the need to take offense.

"And that's one of the many reasons I don't regret telling him." He shrugged his shoulders. "I'm not going to feel guilty about this one. I can't. I didn't tell anyone else though, not even her." He indicated his girlfriend with a slight nod. "Not because it was smart, but I shouldn't have needed to tell anyone else. Sure, my parents should know, just like Topanga, but I made a promise and couldn't completely break it on you. I only hoped Mr. Turner could get through to you."

This discussion was a broken record, repeating all the sentiments he would have accepted long ago if he was strong enough to take hold of them. He was weak to his own faults, falling prey to all the unhinged responses his mind could muster in order to disagree. "I told you I was fine and now I'm going to have Jon constantly trying to help too," he added tiredly.

"What's wrong with that?" Being able to construe Shawn's reactions wasn't always an easy feat, but something he was versed in well enough after the lifetime they've been best friends. He didn't always know when to step back, but he surely became aware when he needed to put his foot forward, onto the battlefield. "And please give me a response that isn't about you being selfish."

"That's the _last_ thing I'm doing," he crossly replied, pushing away from the table.

"Right, you think you're protecting everyone by indirectly hurting yourself, believing it's some kind of sacrifice for this feeling of inadequacy you're dealing with right now," Cory said matter-of-factly. "I'm going to tell you something, Shawn, and I want you to hear me this time. You're not your parents. Stop doing to us what they did to you."

There was a stilled second of hesitation infused into his conjured reply. "This is nothing like what they did to me," Shawn defended, certainty wavering.

His arms were brought out to the side. "Every time you push us away, it's exactly like that," he replied simply. "You trusted Mr. Turner enough to help with one thing and how do you repay him? You leave without a word. Tell me what's different there. Go ahead. Really, I'd like to know." In the absence of his friend's reply, he breathed out heavily. "You can't find anything like I thought. Listen, you don't have to keep being like your dad… A few mistakes don't make you into this horrible person you're trying not to be. You can fix this by trusting us a little more."

Shawn swerved his head around, taking a few paces in the opposing direction, placing his hand over his chin. "My trust is running a little low," he remarked quietly. "I trusted my parents too and look where that got me."

"It's us you're talking to. We've never intentionally done anything to hurt you. You can't argue against that." He paused, a frown still remaining. "You're Shawn. I'm Cory. What else do you need to know? Us against the odds, remember?" He walked back some, placing his hands on Topanga's shoulders. "With a little more on our side this time."

She placed her hand on his, glancing upwards for a second. "Whatever this is, you know we're here for you." She wasn't spared the details but could seamlessly place them together. Family issues were rare with her but they did transpire. There were never drastic measures taken, besides her running away from Pittsburg to Philadelphia to be where she belonged. It still worked out in the end, which could never be assumed with Shawn's predicaments. "We know you've gone through a lot more than any of us, but I never witnessed you go though it alone."

Shawn veered his gaze in her direction. "I never thought I had to before now," he replied, taking a seat. He still felt this heavy burden laying over him. The load was crushing and demanding, wanting him to submit to the core feeling of contempt he's been carrying for so long, but he didn't have the desire to let it go. His world was still a maze, confusion at any indicated turn.

Cory lowered his head, glad to have reached some point of understanding. "I'm sure Mr. Turner already tried to convince you but you're still welcome to stay here if you want," he said as the phone rang in the background.

Shawn turned, running his fingers through his hair to move the strands falling in front of his eyes. "You know I can't. I might not know what I'm doing every second of the day, but this storm is only a minor setback." He glanced up, seeing the rain coming down in sheets, and the tormenting winds escalating as the night carried on.

"I'd say major setback," he countered as lightning flashed and thundered roared. "You can't stay out there. That's crazy." He couldn't find any rational reason behind the statement. This weather was far from any form of hindrance. It was a risk not worth taking, especially when it came to living alone out there with nothing except stubbornness to endure when cutting the ties of friends around who would be able to take him in.

Shawn was about to refute but stayed silent when Amy came downstairs and Alan entered the kitchen, taking the phone. "Don't worry, I got it." He pushed open the door into the living room after answering.

Cory rested his arms against the table, while he spoke in a whisper. "You can fix this, that's all I'm saying. And it doesn't have to be a big deal. No one wants to see you struggle with this any more than you have to. If you look back at every time they've done this to you, they always came back."

"Yeah, I know… I had warning all of those times. But that's the problem to begin with. It keeps happening," Shawn muttered when leaning his head back. He was freezing despite the warmth in the room, his tiredness was plaguing him more than anything else. "I guess I'll have to call Jon to apologize for leaving him like that." He knew it was wrong to begin with but as usual, he could watch himself do those things and lose the willpower to stop it from occurring as it never rose to the occasion.

There was a knock on the back door, breaking the murmured discussion. Amy walked over, opening it and allowing a rush of cold wind to gust into the room. "Jonathan, what are you doing here so late?"

"Looking for him," he said, pointing towards Shawn. "I was hoping he was here." Luckily he was correct in his assumption, aware that he'd never find the teen if he returned to the trailer park.

"Or not," he said lowly. Once his eyes were brought forward, he sighed. "Yeah, about ditching you… I'm sorry. I don't really have an excuse for that…"

He nodded, wiping some of the excess water from his face. "It's fine. I'd rather find you here than anywhere else. Just some form of communication would have helped." He was disappointed that Shawn left without a saying anything, but expected nothing less, subsequently knowing the possibility lived within his student's qualities. He would have preferred an actual consideration of their conversation taken seriously but it seemed too late for that. If only he saw the signs sooner, maybe more could have been done to spare the pain perceptively growing within the other's mind.

Shawn tossed over the towel he was given. A pattern of guilt was forming. "How'd you know I'd come here? I could have been anywhere by now." Of all the multiple places he should have run off to, he would do nothing but roam around, locked in his own thoughts. "You could have called too instead, probably would have been easier," he mentioned nonchalantly.

"I didn't know you'd be here, but usually when you have nowhere to go, that means here," Jon started off with. "And considering the fact that you'd only be here for a brief visit, that wasn't going to happen."

"You never seem to know when to back off," he said wearily, no amount of aggravation left in his tone. He yawned, leaning his head back on the rim of the chair again. The last two weeks have been nothing but mental torment and deceits. His mind wanted to bind all of his confliction and toss it aside within the realm of sleep if only he could rest his eyes for more than a few seconds. "Thanks for before. I didn't get the chance to say it…"

Jon leaned against the counter. After being outside, within the torrent, he couldn't believe Shawn still considered the idea of being on the streets. Unfortunately, it didn't look like he changed his mind. "It's never an inconvenience to me."

"You don't look that well," Topanga mentioned after Amy left the room. She wasn't angry that Cory hadn't spared any detail, but still felt she deserved to know. The three of them weren't famous for getting along in their childhood but enough time passed to falsify the very idea that their lack of friendship ever existed.

"I haven't been sleeping much," Shawn muttered in response. That ease he felt before hadn't returned. Another deceitful wall emerged in his path. He was completely surrounded and short on motivation to argue, yet a part of his brain repeatedly told him he had to leave as soon as possible or all his efforts would unravel.

"If your parents are gone, where are you staying?" she asked. He pointed outside, giving no verbal response. "So, that's what this is about… No wonder they're all worried about you. That is the conclusion you came up with afterwards, that you're better off on your own?"

"Surprisingly enough, yeah," he replied tonelessly, the ceiling capturing his view.

Alan reentered the kitchen with his wife a footstep behind. "Shawn, your dad is on the phone. He wants to talk to you."

* * *

**And cliffhanger! Finally got one in there XD And once again, big thanks for the reviews! They mean a lot! I wanted to make sure to include the fatigue Shawn would be feeling in this chapter since the long talk he had in the last one was pretty heated for him. I've also made sure to incorporate all the suggestions so far in later chapters :) Keep them coming if you want anything else!**


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